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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466168">The Blood of the Beast</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereComesAThought/pseuds/HereComesAThought'>HereComesAThought</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Love Story, and the Moments in Between [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Angst and Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Companions Questline (Elder Scrolls), Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Morning Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Porn With Plot, Revenge, Secrets, Sex Magic, Slow Burn, Smut, Strong Female Characters, Vaginal Sex, Vilkas POV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:28:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereComesAThought/pseuds/HereComesAThought</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After discovering her destiny as the Dragonborn, Ma’assan seeks community with the Companions. She soon finds herself growing intimately close with Vilkas, one of its strongest warriors. But, whenever she gets close, he pulls away. There’s something he’s not telling her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Argis the Bulwark/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn &amp; Vilkas, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Love Story, and the Moments in Between [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Good Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This began as a smutty Vilkas/Dovahkiin one shot and quickly developed into a full plot line! I’ve had a lot of fun developing and spending time with these characters. The story follows the Companion’s quest line, so there will be spoilers throughout.</p><p>There’s a small collection of flash fics I'm releasing showing moments at the beginning of Vilkas and Ma'assan's relationship if you want a lil SFW fluff injection.</p><p>Stay tuned if you love an angsty boy with a tortured soul and a terrible secret! (And a headstrong woman who just wants to do the right thing)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ma’assan awakens in the forest with Vilkas after their first night hunting together as wolves. Every time she gets close to him, he pulls away. She hopes this time he’ll let her in.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun’s light stretched through the forest to announce the new day, creeping quietly over the couple in the clearing. Ma’assan shifted as the brightness and warmth stirred her to consciousness. The dew of cool grass dampened her bare body, her skin buzzing with strength and energy. Morning birds sang their songs and the closeby sound of a twig breaking beneath an elk’s hoof echoed through creaking trees swaying with the wind. Her lungs swelled full with the sweet smell of fresh violets and mossy earth, and... <em> something else </em>... the familiar scent of cedar and sweat. Warmth bloomed over her golden chest and cheeks, and safety wrapped her up. The heat in her face tickled a smile upon it, and, finally, she fluttered her pale purple eyes open to the morning.</p><p>
  <em> Vilkas… </em>
</p><p>The nude warrior laid on his side before her, scarred, muscled figure perfectly haloed in the rising sun. He’d already woken and his icy grey eyes were searching hers, his face stern as it always was. She felt a tightening in her abdomen at the proximity of their naked bodies and the heat radiating from the rugged Nord. The last time she’d been close enough to feel that, he’d caught himself and bid her goodnight. Now, after their first transformation together since she’d joined the Companion’s inner circle, she hoped it would be different. Not only did she know his secret, she shared his curse. </p><p>Her curious eyes reluctantly broke from his, trailing down his chiseled frame. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth when she took in the sight of his already firm length, eyes glazing with lust at the sight of him throbbing. Her gaze returned to his and she was met with a short grin at her reaction, but he didn’t move. Despite his expression there was something mournful in his eyes, as though he expected her to disappear, or run away, at any moment. Her brow furrowed and she reached to cradle his cheek softly in her hand. His grin faded and for a moment he looked as though he would be the one to run away. Ma’assan gave a small smile and traced her thumb over the warpaint on his cheekbone. <em> He’ll stay… I’ll make sure of it. </em></p><p>She moved forward before he could withdraw, locking their lips in a passionate kiss. Without hesitation his large hand thrust into her silver hair, gripping a fistful and pulling her in deeper. The passion turned quickly to carnal desire as his tongue sought entry to her mouth, hot with need. Gods, she had waited to taste him for so long, and now he was pushing to taste her too. The beast within her began to stir, demanding to be sated. It was nothing, though, compared to the intense pull of his own wolf blood; its vibration pounding in time with his heartbeat, reaching into Ma’assan to clutch at her electric energy. A low growl slipped from his mouth into hers and that fluttering heat tightened between her legs, her hips pushing forward to meet his. He broke their kiss, sucking in a sharp hiss through clenched teeth as their heaving bodies pressed together. His grip tightened on her tresses, pulling her head back to descend upon her neck and collarbones. The flutter flared into an ache as his smooth lips covered the area in greedy kisses. Heavy heat rolled from the top of her head to her toes as she spread her legs for Vilkas, and felt his narrow waist take space between them. Ma’assan thrust her hips up seeking more pleasure, aching to feel him against her naked sex. A loud, gruff growl resounded from the wolf as her slick excitement met him. </p><p>Suddenly, his hips pinned her down, keeping her achingly still between him and the earth as their messy kiss connected again. He pulled back, her lips unable to chase his with his fist still wrapped in her hair. A soft whine escaped her needy mouth and she opened her eyes to see a satisfied grin painted across his features.</p><p>Honeyed kisses moved slowly down her bottom lip and over her chin, trailing affection down her neck, to the soft skin between her breasts. His free hand moved to knead at one of her tender peaks, cupping it to bring his mouth hovering over her hardened nipple. She whimpered and squirmed against him, small hips struggling for friction to no avail. How could he move with such agonizing control? Her heightened senses were overwhelmed by the feral aroma of his desire, yet his restraint remained indomitable. She writhed, slipping a frustrated moan in anticipation of that wet, warm feeling, while his hot breath rolled over the firm bud. His grinning lips feathered over her nipple as he spoke.</p><p>“Tell me what you want…”  <em>He is truly enjoying this </em>. She was too, trembling and complying quickly in a breathy whisper.</p><p>“I want you!” </p><p>A loud moan freed itself from within her as his mouth engulfed her sensitive nipple. He began to rock his hips in delicious, torturous circles against hers, the pleasure curling an arch into her back. His burning tongue circled the bud before tenderly sucking it into his mouth to massage the sensitive nerves, while the hand entangled in her hair carefully unraveled to begin exploring more of her. His touch was everywhere, gluttonous but intentional, taking his time to feel every inch of the Dragonborn’s taut frame. She sucked in a few gasps at his eager grip; there would be bruises on her ass tomorrow, and she would wear them with pride. When he was satisfied with the attention given to her left nipple, he moved to the right. By now, the elf’s face had grown flush, steady moans and gasps sounding from the blissful woman as he worked her over. After wanting him for so long, the sheer pleasure of him hard, throbbing against her, threatened to bring her to climax. She groaned against him, her breathing growing erratic. His pace grew faster and harder, but soon he rediscovered his control, bringing himself to a stop and pinning her still. She huffed, trying to roll her hips against his without success. </p><p>“Tell me what you <em> need </em>,” he whispered. She had never been one to beg, but his skillful ministrations were coaxing her into submission.</p><p>“I need you inside me, Vilkas… <em> please… </em> ” Her plea warmed his lips and a desperate moan escaped him. Their mouths crushed together in a hot blooded kiss, his hips lifted to line himself up to her entrance and one of his large hands gripped her thigh to pull it over his waist. Ma’assan cried out against his lips as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of her, wet eagerness helping her accept his size with ease. He swallowed her moans, starved for them, and stayed still for a moment to savor the feeling. She was thankful for the time to adjust before he began a surprisingly slow and rhythmic pace. His calloused hand squeezed her thigh, while the other stroked her face with a gentleness she hadn’t known he possessed. Her own hands explored his battle hardened body with care before wrapping around his neck, fingers dipping in and out of the thick dark hair draping down over his face. Their kiss broke and her pale eyes gazed up into his own icy grey pools, both of their visages cloudy with pleasure and an insatiable desire for the other. <em> Divines, he feels amazing. </em> His pace began to pick up, Ma’assan tossing her head back against the grass and groaning, eyes squeezing shut. </p><p>“No!” he growled, his grip tightening on her leg. “Look at me, Ma’assan!” His voice was a rumble, the tender hand holding her face returning to clench a fist in her hair. Her eyes shot open obediently, focusing up at her panting lover. The sun had bathed them both in a radiating warmth that hummed over her skin, Vilkas’ sheen face and shoulders outlined in golden light against the blue sky. She could barely keep her eyes on him, the visual threatened to consume her. He looked at her like he never had before, as though she were the sun itself, and the star that hung above them was inconsequential. The fire of his gaze would soon burn her alive as her orgasm rushed closer. Soft moans grew loud and sporadic, heat building and tightening in waves in her abdomen in time with his pace. </p><p>“Vilkas! Harder! Please!”</p><p>He was quick to oblige, hips sinking down and rolling hard against the bundle of nerves inside of her. A long groan dragged from her lips as everything began to clench and tremble within, those purple eyes growing glossy with overwhelm. Vilkas flashed a bright smile and nodded in approval, pulling her thigh higher to roll deeper as she squeezed and quaked on him. </p><p>“Yes!” he hissed, “just like that, I can feel it!” His smile grew wider. <em> I’ve never seen him so happy. </em> “Let go.” His husky voice encouraged her, sending her over the edge. The hand holding her leg came to wrap tightly around the small of her back as she arched against him, cradling her close through her climax. Skilled hips continued rolling, helping her ride out the undulating waves at a slowing pace. A lightning storm electrified her mind and the overactive energy of her mana surged through her body. The soft buzz of magic shocked his lips as they connected with hers, making him pull back with the softest gasp. She couldn’t help but grin before he returned for a tender kiss and brought his hips to a stop, slowly pulling out. </p><p>Her muscles trembled, still tightening and releasing in bliss. She peeked one eye open as he sat up, to see him regard her slender golden form bathed in morning light beneath him. Soon, more of his attentive kisses found their way over her neck and chest. Soft, happy hums left the dazed elf in response. His lips hummed against her skin as they lowered, trailing beneath her navel, and lowering still. She wondered briefly if he intended to kiss every inch of her when, finally, his intention was made clear. She sucked a gust of air in, tightening all over again as his wet mouth encircled her sensitive sex. Her slender fingers clutched at the grass beneath her as her legs spread as wide as they could for the new sensation, thighs finding themselves secured firmly in his hands. It didn’t take long for it to become nearly too much after the power of her first orgasm, her hands now pushing at the earth to escape the shattering pleasure as her hips convulsed in his grasp. He clutched her, locking her hips to his mouth and growling between her thighs in satisfaction. She writhed and cried out beneath him, another intense orgasm roaring through her.</p><p>While the sun creeped its way to the highest point in the sky, Ma’assan spent the hours being pleasured by her lover in the open air of the woods. He tasted her and stretched her, working on her until she could hardly stay conscious. After losing count of her orgasms, she was reaching her limit. He seemed to intent on claiming every last ounce of pleasure she had. The heaving elf laid stretched over the grass, dotted in sweat and blush with her eyes closed. She felt his hips slide between her thighs again, Vilkas slowly thrusting inside and pulling a long, tired groan from her. </p><p>“Give me one more, love. Can you endure?” </p><p>She moaned her approval and offered a weak nod, unable to gather the energy for much else. He set a relentless pace inside of her, finally seeking his own release. The warrior sat up on his knees, his delicious, bruising grip bracing her hips against his quick, shallow thrusts until the rhythm, and his breathing, grew more erratic. She could feel him throbbing and wanted nothing more than to feel him come; her climax nearly rushing her at the thought. Quickly, he pulled her chest up to his and wrapped her in his arms, crushing their bodies together and locking eyes. She used the rest of what little energy she had to hold him close as he seized against her.</p><p>“Come with me, Ma’assan!” </p><p>The Dragonborn’s cries filled the forest, Vilkas’ rough groans and curses joined as he spent himself inside of her. He clutched at the smooth, damp skin of her back, and enjoyed the way her silver hair fanned back as his heavy breaths rolled over the crook of her neck. His mate had quickly fallen limp in his arms, naught but soft hums occasionally sounding from her. When he drew back to see her face a wide grin stretched over his own and pride enveloped him. Consciousness had already eluded her, eyes closed and breathing becoming more steady. His large arms brought her gingerly down to the grass again, a soft hiss drawing from him as he slowly pulled out before moving to lay beside the sleeping woman. He watched her for a moment, his fingertips tracing over the smooth skin and scars that decorated his fierce lover, before smoothing a few displaced strands of silver hair from her face. Soon, drowsiness would claim him as well. His grey eyes closed, and he fell into the most restful sleep he’d had in months.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My first fic! I wasn’t able to find a particularly juicy Altmer/Vilkas fic so I decided to write something up myself! Started as a one shot, currently developing into more. </p><p>A rebel high elf joining the companions and falling for a Nord werewolf? I mean, c’mon. Yes plz.</p><p>Skipping for smut? I feel that, you dirty thing, you. NSFW chapters are 1, 4, 7, and 9 at the moment.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What Have You Done?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vilkas struggles with his inner beast after he and Ma’assan’s morning of bliss.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Uh oh, here we go! It’s not a one shot anymore! I have some ideas in mind for this story and lots of time on my hands at the moment. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!</p><p>The next smutty chapter is chapter 4 if you want to fast forward past the plot, you dirty thing, you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> “V-vilkas...what have you done?...”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Her voice was a soft whisper. The broken man clutched his mate in his arms, fingers tangled in silver hair matted thick with blood. More trickled from her nostrils as she struggled to keep breathing: Rasping, whimpering for air. He trembled over her helplessly as she slipped away. The light in her pale purple eyes faded and she stole one last aching breath. A chilling cry erupted from the warrior, clenching her now lifeless body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No!..no, not again...please not her...please..please..” His voice broke as he pleaded, rocking her limp body back and forth. Her poor frame was so shattered, he’d nearly torn her apart. Horrifying cries shook through his body as he prayed to the Divines to restore the life of the woman he had slaughtered. He knew he was cursed. He knew they wouldn’t listen. But, he prayed and screamed and wept nonetheless. “Take me instead!” The shout roared out of him. His rage began to rip his skin open. Thick black fur burst agonizingly from the cracks of his morphing body, and he lost himself once again to the dreaded animal within. </em>
</p><p>Vilkas snapped awake, his body lurching forward in a cold sweat. The sun was setting, a cool evening breeze rustled through the peaceful woodland surrounding them. Ma’assan slept soundly beside him, unphased by his jolt into the waking world. The calm and quiet made him realize how roughly he was panting. He took a moment, relaxing his rigid body and running a hand through his hair. <em> It was only a dream, like so many others. She’s safe </em>. He let a sigh of relief roll from his aching chest and wandered his eyes over her figure, tanned golden skin highlighted by the rays of the setting sun. </p><p><em> The dream is a warning </em>. </p><p>He grimaced, shooing away the thought. It persisted. The sight of her pale face looking up at him in betrayed agony had burned itself into his mind. His fingers pressed at his temples to alleviate the throbbing pressure building there. This couldn’t happen again. No matter how much he believed himself to be in control, his beast always proved he wasn’t. He fought so hard to resist the curse and it’s whispers and jabs. But it was loud, and persistent. </p><p>
  <em> You will tear her apart.  </em>
</p><p>Vilkas sighed dejectedly. Ma’assan’s mouth was set in a soft smile, radiating warmth. Soft, sweet lips he could kiss if he wanted to. He could wake her in any number of ways, in any number of places, and she would smile. Another sigh. He stood and moved to a nearby fallen tree to grab a pack he’d stashed there. The inner circle made sure to keep their hunting grounds littered with hidden caches, providing clothing and weapons to use after the transformation. He brought the pack to Ma’assan, draping her with a small fur and making sure she’d spot the supplies when she woke. His heart seized in his chest. Divines...how she would feel when she awoke. <em> Ysgramor protect her...forgive me. </em> He’d made a mistake. This couldn’t go on, for everyone’s sake. Falling prey to his desires only ever made things worse. Besides, they each had responsibilities much larger than their personal passions, and it had always been highly taboo for Companions - especially those of the inner circle - to fraternize. He worried for her safety, leaving her alone, but he knew he gazed upon the mighty Dovahkiin. She would be safe, and she needed no one but herself to make sure of that. Vilkas’ hands clenched into fists at his sides before he tore his eyes from her, leaving the meadow they’d so recently filled with bliss. <em> Let her hate me and move on. </em></p>
<hr/><p>A grin pulled at the corners of Ma’assan’s mouth as she stirred from her sleep. Drowsy eyes fluttered open to the growing darkness of night, traces of dim light from the recently departed sun still fading from the sky. Her hand stretched out along the cool grass to reach for Vilkas, but the space was empty. She turned to search for him, sitting up and scanning the clearing. He was gone, with only supplies left in his stead. The way he’d looked at her..the way he’d touched her just hours ago, no man had ever given her that. After weeks of flirting, near misses, and lingering goodbyes, she was sure. At least she thought...it <em> seemed </em> so much like he cared. Ma’assan wasn’t one to pine for men or assign meaning when there was nothing there, but this was different. Confusion washed over her as she drew the light leather armor from the pack, dressing herself quietly as she pondered. <em> Something could’ve happened and he had to get back quickly…I should reserve judgement until I see him again </em> . A pit of hurt and anger welled in her chest. <em> He’s been so reserved, did I act before he was ready? He could regret what we did. Or maybe he just got what he wanted. </em> As she dressed herself in the irritatingly oversized armor, she tried to shirk the sting of betrayal. The beast within her gnashed its teeth and twisted her stomach with rage, convinced of Vilkas’ shallow treachery and hungry for repayment in blood. The searing feeling was difficult to shake, but she could recognize it as foreign. She’d felt something similar when she’d first begun to use magic as a child. If she could regulate the chaos of magic, she was confident she could control her lycanthropy. She briefly wondered what it was like for the others, having known the blood for years. Aela and Skjor seemed controlled enough, but while they’d hailed it as a blessing, Farkas, Vilkas and Kodlak damned it as a curse. Ma’assan wasn’t sure what she believed yet, but she did often find herself wondering about the cure late at night when her restless beast kept her awake with whispers and nightmares.</p><p>The conflicting voices in her head barely let up as she made the trek back to town, heading straight for Jorrvaskr once she’d made it. By the time she entered the Companion’s Hall it was late enough that most had gone to bed, save for a few drunken souls. The familiar, smoky smell of cedar and sweat found her sensitive nose and she went downstairs to make her way to his quarters, the scent growing richer as she approached his door. Years of being trained as a proper lady would usually nag her, even at a time like this, to knock before seeking entry but her beast had no interest in pleasantries. She swung the heavy oak door open to see him sitting quietly at his desk reading. He didn’t turn to look at her.</p>
<hr/><p>“It’s late.” He tried for callousness, hoping she would feel a cold indifference emanating from him. The side of the oak door creaked beneath her grip and she took a deep breath before closing it firmly. He wasn’t surprised she was upset, he’d just have to keep control and fuel her anger to help her let go. He released an annoyed sigh, pretending harder focus on his book. “I’d rather not speak of this morning. It’s best we both forget.”</p><p>“Why? Vilkas, what happened?” She moved closer, and her tone was...gentle and concerned. <em> Vilkas...what have you done? </em> The dream echoed in his memory, sending shards of ice down his spine. <em> Gods, even with beast and dragon blood coursing through her veins the woman chooses compassion after being left to wake alone in the woods </em>. He kept his eyes from her, jaw clenching as she drew near.</p><p>
  <span>“We made a mistake. Let’s be done with it,” he growled, snapping his book shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Excuse me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Finally, he’d struck a nerve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are my shield sister, nothing more. What happened was just a result of the blood’s influence, pay it no mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long stretch of silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally turned. Her face was twisted in anger and betrayal. The sight sent his heart sinking to depths he’d never recover it from. He wondered if she would immolate him right there, use the power of the voice to shout him across the room, or strike him down with one of his nearby swords.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You made me </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>like…” Her voice trembled with a flurry of emotions, but she stopped before it broke. He watched closely, his weak heart hoping desperately that she’d see through him. He hoped she would stay and bring him to his senses, promise her own safety from him and assure the wolf that he could not hurt her. “Goodnight, then.” The quiet storm left his quarters, shutting the door softly on the way out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An all too familiar ache claimed the space where his heart once was, but this pain was far more tolerable than what could await him should he give in. He closed his eyes, listening as her steps carried her swiftly down the hall and out of the living quarters to exit Jorrvaskr. When the front doors closed behind her, he shot to his feet and released a bellow not unlike his battle cry before his fists slammed through the oak desk. Books and papers scattered to the ground as the desk exploded down the center, collapsing in two. He tried to regulate his breathing as he stumbled back to sit on the edge of his bed, searching for focus through a blurry mass of rage and pain. The wolf raked its claws over his insides and set him aflame, holding his body hostage for its release. Vilkas sat, sweating, breathing steadily in and out, until morning came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He adorned his armor and left his quarters, exhausted, to begin another day.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Pride Goeth Before A Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ma’assan runs off to Markarth seeking alone time and distance from Vilkas. Argis the Bulwark stubbornly insists on accompanying her on her adventure.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Minor violence in this chapter, but it’s SFW. Next chapter should be very NSFW haha. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harsh winds lashed around the crouching elf, leaning against the cover of a frozen boulder. This cruel Northern weather made her long for the warmth of the Southern Isles, the year round sunshine just about the only thing she missed from her former home. Her grip was frozen around her ornate golden bow, and the frigid air stung her lungs with each focused breath. Narrowed eyes locked on a distant target. About forty yards ahead, a panicked member of the Silver Hand whipped his head around, searching desperately for the enemy in the storm as he scrambled for cover with a sword shakily drawn. A handful of his comrades littered the freshly bloodied snow around a massive Nordic ruin, arrows jutting from their heads. The last sound the trembling warrior heard was Ma’assan’s arrow piercing through the air, before he too fell lifeless in the snow. She quickly and quietly nocked another arrow, searching for stragglers.</p><p>“I think that was the last of them, my Thane,” her companion’s deep voice sounded, just loud enough to hear over the howling wind. Ma’assan rolled her eyes at the formal title. She’d lost count of how many times she’d requested he drop the gesture, but it wasn’t worth arguing about now in the freezing cold. Argis’ large frame towered as he stood up from the jagged rock he’d taken cover behind, lowering his ebony bow. “Wait here. I’ll-”</p><p>Ma’assan tightened her draw and advanced to the entrance of the ruin. The Nord followed close behind, a low growl rumbling from him. <em> Wait here. Ridiculous. </em>She hadn’t asked him to accompany her, and in fact had rather explicitly requested he remain at Vlindrel Hall in the city, but he’d stubbornly insisted on the grounds that the southern elf would need help traversing the treacherous, snowy mountains of the area. She hadn’t even allowed her dear Inigo to join her on this trip, much to the Khajit's surprise. She and Argis hadn’t spent much time together since she’d been named Thane of Markarth months before. After spending weeks helping the city clean its filthy underbelly, she’d been happy to return to Whiterun and dedicate her full attention to the Companions, and to Vilkas. They had ventured together before, though, enough for Ma’assan to see Argis’ unyielding dedication to her, even as a perfect stranger. Regardless, the tension between them since they’d left the city was palpable. She’d escaped to the Reach to clear her head, and single mindedly kill the Silver Hand’s werewolf hunters, and anyone and anything else that would challenge her. It was far enough from any Companion hunting grounds that she was sure she wouldn’t run into Vilkas. </p><p>Since she’d left his quarters, her wolf wrestled and clawed for control, but she resisted transformation. The change was exhilarating but caused a loss of control, time, and awareness towards the end. No clarity, just an animalistic loss of self. If she gave herself over, she wasn’t sure where she’d wake up and what she might’ve killed. Hunts and transformations had to be planned, not recklessly unleashed. It’d been only a week since she’d last changed, and she was perturbed by the blood’s growing desperation. The effects of resistance were harsh: Though her body bursted with dark energy, her mind was exhausted and her moods were difficult to keep a handle on. She craved rest and peace of mind. She craved the warm embrace of the man she’d come to admire. The image of his dark, thick hair and glistening skin glowing in the morning light above her played into her mind.</p><p>She quickly dismissed the unwelcome intrusion upon her thoughts, the icy pain in her hands and feet helping ground her as she trudged through thick, powdery snow with Argis. The wind cried and wailed around them, thrashing snow through the dry air in its rage and blocking all visibility.</p><p>“My Thane,” he called from behind, still insisting on the title. She marched on. “My <em> Thane! </em>” The heavy sound of him pounding through the snow was quickly growing nearer, but she remained focused ahead on the ruin’s large doors.</p><p>“There’s probably more inside!” The bloodthirsty elf nearly made it to the entrance before his gloved hand snatched her wrist. She jerked to a halt, her head whipping back to glare at him. The look in her eyes didn’t seem to surprise him, but it did force him to loosen his grasp.</p><p>“This is the third camp we’ve cleared today. You need rest! The storm will only get worse; we should head back to Markarth before you catch your death out here!” His grip squeezed tighter again before she yanked it from him.</p><p>“You know nothing of what I need or what I can handle, and you would do well to remember who you speak to,” she spat spitefully, his eyes narrowing on her before he seemed to concede. For a moment her stomach turned at her rudeness. He was here to ensure her safety and survival as he’d faithfully done before, she had no right to be short with him. But, her noble birth and self righteous wolf turned a nose up at such affronts. </p><p><em>Who does he think he’s talking to? </em><b><em>You</em></b><em> are the Dragonborn.</em> <b><em>You </em></b><em>are a wolf, who could tear his rippling flesh apart.</em></p><p>She turned back to the entrance, eager to throw herself into battle rather than allow her divisive thoughts to begin pulling her mind in two, as they were recently wont to do. Abandoning stealth, she burst through the doors and loosed a hail of arrows on the werewolf hunters. Argis quickly shouldered his bow as two of the warriors dashed at her with weapons drawn, unsheathing his own sword and shield to slam ahead and intercept them. They made short work of the small crew residing inside, disappointment washing over Ma’assan as the fight hastily ended. She gave a huff, looking at the scattered bodies.</p><p>“They hardly even tried!” </p><p>A familiar sound cut through the air and the Dovahkiin felt a sharp impact blow through her shoulder. A gasp escaped her, and she stumbled back to keep from falling.</p><p>“Ma’assan!” Argis shouted before spinning to find the source. A lone archer in the shadows drew another arrow and the warrior unleashed a ripping battle cry as he charged into the dark. “I’ll have your head!”</p><p>Pain spread like wildfire through her chest and arm, her hand shooting to clutch the arrow impaling her shoulder. Pain. <em> Pain. </em> She fell to one knee. The feeling stole her breath away, muscles twitching and rigid in response to the foreign object shooting through her. This wasn’t the first time she’d been shot, but something felt wrong. The fire spread to the rest of her body, rushing a fever over her as she dropped to her side. <em> Poison. </em></p><p>“Argis,” she whispered, panting softly against the dizzying feeling as the world grew dim and hazy. The burning turned to numbness and suddenly, her large protector gathered her up in his arms. He spoke, but the sound was so muffled she couldn’t make the words out. “Argis...you finally said my name.” She smirked before everything went black.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In my play-throughs I always end up marrying either Vilkas or Argis, so of course I decided Argis should get some face time here. I love a hot headed man of few words &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Working Out the Kinks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After being shot with a poisoned arrow, Ma’assan awakes having been saved and bandaged by Argis. The two share drinks by the campfire before things get heated.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>VERY NSFW chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ma’assan’s eyes shot open, and a sharp inhale filled her senses with warm, smoke tinged air; a fire crackled nearby, undisturbed by her sudden waking. Her body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the labor of the nightmare she’d just escaped. Like every night since she’d accepted the blood, restful sleep eluded her. What Kodlak had told her flashed through her mind: When she died, her soul would be called by Hircine to his hunting grounds where she would remain a beast forever. <em> Will I truly never see peaceful rest again, even in death? </em></p><p>“You’re awake...how do you feel?” Argis’ deep, concerned voice broke the silence. Ma’assan’s tense gaze softened, her eyes glassy and mouth trying for a smirk.</p><p>“Horrible.” She almost laughed, but feared the pain that would befall her. After insisting on going off on her own, here she lay, weak, in a cold sweat.</p><p>“Luckily, you had an antidote in your pack. I was able to close and bandage the wound. I made sure to clear the rest of the ruin and secured the entrance. We should be safe to rest here for the night, my Thane.”</p><p>“Argis, <em> please </em>.”</p><p>He said nothing for a moment. </p><p>“Ma’assan,” he finally uttered. </p><p>A relieved sigh rolled from her chest and she offered him a smile that he was kind enough to return. <em> He looks so handsome in the warm light of the fire </em>. He’d taken his armor off, left in just his shift and leather breeches. He narrowed his eyes as he watched her observe him, and she realized she had been. </p><p>Shifting a bit, the dragonborn looked down at her right shoulder. Her armor and tunic had been removed, leaving only her breast band for modesty. The bandaging was well applied. She was sure he’d had a lot of practice if his many scars were any indication. When she’d read in Vlindrel Hall, she’d occasionally stolen glances of his towering body as he changed for bed in the shared space between their bedrooms. Curious eyes would peek over her book to wonder at the battles that could have caused such scars. At least it was her and not him who’d been hurt because of her relentlessness. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” she said. His gaze rose to meet hers.</p><p>“You have nothing to apologize for.”</p><p>“<em> I’m sorry </em>,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You were right. And now we’re here...and I’m sorry.” </p><p>His eyes fell to the fire, and he seemed to think for a moment before his mouth pulled into a grin. Large hands snatched up his pack, briefly rummaging around inside before pulling out a sizable ruby wine bottle. Amusement replaced her sombre expression as he pulled the cork with his teeth, a satisfying pop echoing through the acoustic tomb. </p><p>“And what prompted you to bring this along?”</p><p>“Back at Vlindrel Hall, before we left, I saw that look in your eyes.” He got up, walking around the small fire to her bedroll to sit beside her. “I know that look. I figured you’d need a drink.” She kept her furs pulled up over her chest as she slowly raised herself to sit, the Nord’s watchful eyes searching her face for signs of pain. “Slowly.” When he seemed sure she was fine, he held the bottle to her. </p><p>“Thank you.” She gave a nod and took it, happily taking a deep swig.</p><p>“Easy,” he chuckled, “it’s not that Honningbrew crap.” </p><p>Her eyes stretched wide as her throat lit up with fiery heat and she pulled the bottle from her lips.</p><p>“What is that?!” She was barely able to get the words out through a small coughing fit. She cringed and froze from the pain in her shoulder, taking deep breaths to compose herself. </p><p>“Firebrand wine. Only for the fiercest of warriors.” He gave a nod as he took the bottle, swilling his own hearty gulp.</p><p>“Well, then, I suppose I’m honored.” Her smirk returned, mirroring his as she snatched the bottle back and took a more composed draft of the wine. She’d certainly never had wine that burned like fire; the drink was appropriately named. The two sat in comfortable silence as they passed the bottle back and forth, enjoying the warmth of the campfire. The alcohol’s effects were swift, tension melting and content washing over her in pleasant waves. She moved to lay on her side, letting her uninjured arm prop her up.</p><p>“Argis?”</p><p>“Mm?”</p><p>“What happened? Why do you know <em> that </em>look?” She couldn’t help but wonder. He’d never mentioned any friends or family being that he wasn’t much for conversation. He shifted and seemed to grow a bit uncomfortable. A pang of regret cramped her stomach as his eyes fell to the floor, an unwelcome memory clearly being exhumed. Before she could take her words back, he turned with a forced smile.</p><p>“That’s a story for another place. Somewhere warmer, with more bottles.” He gulped more of the wine.</p><p>“Something simpler, then. Why did you become a housecarl?” The bottle changed hands again.</p><p>“I’ve always been a fighter, it’s what I’m best at. The Divines blessed me with strength, I give it purpose.” He focused his good eye on the elf. “I choose to draw my sword for someone I believe in.” </p><p>“But you didn’t really choose me, did you? You were assigned to me.” It was becoming difficult to ignore the taste of his lips on the bottle, the heavy container quickly growing lighter and lighter. “If you could change things, go back somehow… would you still choose this life? Knowing you’d be stuck in an old tomb nursing a stubborn woman?” She grinned, and the smile he returned lit fire to her chest.</p><p>“I fight beside the Dragonborn. I have no regrets. Even if this place is...dark.” He shifted again, taking the bottle back.</p><p>“Oh?” she perked a brow. “I wouldn’t take <em> you </em>for someone afraid of the dark.” </p><p>His smile disappeared as his gaze caught the flames again. “Anyone would be afraid of a draugr infested ruin,” he huffed. Her grin widened.</p><p>“Ha! So you are afraid!” She gave a small giggle, a sound she didn’t often make in front of others. She was sure she could see a tint of red on his cheeks but it was difficult to tell in the dim light.</p><p>“We should get some sleep.”</p><p>“No! Argis, please! I’m sorry, I don’t mean to tease you, but you must understand it’s impossible to resist. Besides,” a wry smile settled on her face, “I’ll protect you.”</p><p>“Mm.” He peeked over his shoulder with his good eye, allowing a content smile to lift his features. Pain suddenly soured her face and she gave a soft hiss, left hand placing soft pressure over her wound. Worry overtook his features more liberally than it would have if he’d been sober. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Nothing more wine can’t fix.” She noticed the look, and hoped using humor would relax him. When she recovered more energy she could use her mana to accelerate the healing process, but for now the pain would come and go in waves. He handed her the bottle.</p><p>“I… do you want me to help you?”</p><p>“Help me? I think you’ve already seen to that. <em> I am sworn to carry your burdens </em>.” She lowered her voice to put on her best Argis impression, amusing them both.</p><p>“Really. I know of… something that will make you feel better. To help you relax.” </p><p>
  <em> Why is he being so vague? </em>
</p><p>“We’ve gone through all the potions and wine, are you suggesting something stronger?” He chuckled, nodding his head.</p><p>“You could say that. Lay flat on your stomach.” His voice was assertive, the sound sending a buzzing through her core. She was a bit confused, but she trusted him. After tossing back one last swig of fiery booze, she handed it to him to finish off before following his instructions - carefully, so as not to hurt her shoulder. She rested her arms at her sides and closed her eyes. The position was comfortable enough.</p><p>“Is this alright?” she asked. He gave a short hum of approval before she felt the furs slowly slide down her body. She stifled a gasp, opening her eyes and looking back at him. He met her bewildered gaze with tenderness. </p><p>“If I hurt you, or you want me to stop, all you need to do is tell me.” His large warm hands ran up the bare skin of her lower back. Before she could protest, his thumbs pressed into the sore muscles there. The pleasure rendered her silent, and she slowly rested her head back down as his firm, knowing touch rolled and kneaded relief into her aching muscles. He was feather light near her wound and bandages, only working the area enough to stimulate healing blood flow. When his strong fingers slid their way up the nape of her neck and into her hair to massage at her scalp, a moan bubbled up from within her. The sound was surprisingly sexual. She bit her lip and swallowed more coos behind flushed cheeks. If she hadn’t known better she would swear he was using magic; the fantastic humming heat that radiated through her body as he squeezed and caressed her was otherworldly. Fire began to pool between her legs, to her embarrassment. She would blame the wine. </p><p>His hands kneaded their way down her shoulders and arms, working knots out of the archer’s hands before moving to her lower back again. She needed his hands lower, her body agreed, ass lifting to shake from side to side in invitation. His breath hitched and she opened her purple hues, looking over her shoulder at him.</p><p>“Take them off,” she whispered. They watched each other, unblinking, as his hands slid down to the waistband of her pants, hooking his fingers into them and peeling them off. He left her small clothes for now and broke their gaze to move further down, pulling the clothing from her ankles. His grip moved to catch her foot and begin massaging her weary soles. Each slow pass of his thumbs stripped away her effort to muffle her moans, eyes now closed in bliss. He worked his way up her calves, giving great attention to each tightened muscle. The quiet sound of his breathing grew deeper as he moved up her smooth thighs, eyes wandering along her lithe figure while slow, careful hands followed in their wake. Her legs began to spread for him, the thrumming heat between them desperate for the touch of those skilled hands. He drew agonizingly close to her desire before moving from her inner thighs to dip into the band of her smalls. He hesitated and she gave a soft whimper, pushing her ass up into his hands. The movement inspired a low growl from him, electric sparks shooting through her abdomen at the sound before he ripped the thin cloth from her hips completely. She sucked in a short gasp, long moans sliding out as he gripped her bare ass, desperate to fill his hands with her. His touch was becoming hungry, her body his feast. Hot breath rolled over her ear as he leaned down over her, careful of her shoulder. The huge Nord eclipsed the small elf, but the giant was surprisingly gentle. Thick fingers slid over her side and down her waist to ghost over her throbbing sex, her hips wiggling to draw closer to his teasing hand as she offered soft coos of encouragement. The other hand held her hip firmly in place to keep her from grinding into his touch.</p><p>“Is this what you want?” His gruff voice set an ache between her legs, the woman all but writhing beneath his grasp. </p><p>“Gods, yes!” A loud moan echoed through the room as his hot tongue ran up the sharp blade of her ear, that large hand coming to rest flat against her mound, cupping her. He held still there, giving only slight pressure. She whimpered softly and his smile grew against her ear, hot breath bathing the side of her face in delicious warmth. His chest rumbled against her back, her breathing only growing more harsh as she struggled to grind on his palm. He shifted, pressing his strong hips down onto hers. </p><p>
  <em> Gods help me, he’s huge!  </em>
</p><p>The large bulge grinded against her ass, ripping moans from them both. Lust drove his hand, fingers finally parting her folds to sample the wetness there. </p><p>“Fuck. You’re so wet for me, dovahkiin.” She tossed her head back onto his shoulder and her breathing stuttered. Argis took the chance to cover her cheek and jaw in kisses as his fingertips rolled up and down her slit, her excitement dripping onto the furs beneath her as their breath matched to a hot rhythm in the quiet room, the crackle of the fire occasionally joining the duet. “I’ve dreamt of this,” he groaned into her ear, “your beautiful body in my hands. So fucking wet for me.” The groan dropped to a growl and his fingers grew faster, encircling her clit. She gripped at her bedding, very surprised at how talkative Argis had proven to be in bed. For a man of such few words, he was being very colorful with them now and she was thankful for it. He laid kisses over her ear, his free hand brushing back the silver hair from her neck to gain access to it. He grew ravenous, his kisses ferocious. A rough bite sent a yelp up her throat before the afflicted area was lavished with care by his soft tongue. “Divines, I need more of you!” </p><p>Suddenly, he withdrew, and Ma’assan whined at the cool air replacing him. He helped her to turn over without being over zealous, still careful of her injury. She was thankful for his concern, she’d gotten so riled up she’d nearly forgotten. She lied back, and he began to disrobe. Light eyes watched him attentively, his skin stretching fabulously over rippled muscle as he pulled his shift over his head. He tossed it aside, and his shoulder length hair fell about his lustful visage as their eyes met. He rose to his knees between her legs, grabbing her hips and raising them up to meet his own, still bound by his pants, much to her disappointment. Her low back arched off the bedding, shoulders resting comfortably on the furs. His burning gaze lusted over her as he raked his nails softly along the curve of her outstretched abdomen. Chills tickled up her hips and over her breasts, the band securing them soon suffering the same fate as her smalls as his massive hands tore it away with ease. Her supple, shapely breasts were freed to the cool air and the view sent a rumble vibrating through him like a purr. He trapped her nipples between his middle and index fingers as he massaged at her chest. The dull ache of her shoulder fell far into the abyss of her mind; only this room existed and she would do whatever he wanted. He leaned over her to relish kisses between her breasts as his hands admired them, and spoke into her flesh.</p><p>“Talos preserve me… you’re perfect,” he moaned against her skin before his tongue dragged over to ensnare her left nipple. She arched against him with a cry, her hips pushing to feel more of him. She grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him up to face her. Her gentle hands cradled his jaw, and she admired the panting Nord, brimming with passion.</p><p>“You’re beautiful,” she whispered with such sincerity it seemed almost to break his heart. His lips rushed to meet hers in their first kiss, breathing life into her. His scent was as intoxicating as the wine, dominating her senses as their tongues mingled. His trimmed beard tickled her chin, her soft smiles peppering the kiss. Their bare chests crushed together, agitating the tight aching between her thighs. </p><p>All of this caused her mana to surge, the static buzz of magic filling the air. He grew stiff, and the kiss paused. She knew magic made him nervous, but she would show him he needn’t be afraid with her. The tips of her fingers began to dance up his back playfully, sending stimulating little shocks through him and drawing his breaths short as he flexed against her. Her grin spread across their kiss, one hand now relaxing flat on his back and filling him with a growing, radiating warmth like innocent licks from a flame. He moaned into her mouth, relaxing into the feeling. She held his face, pulling back only an inch or so to blow icy air onto his lips. His mouth grew tingly with frost, flakes of ice warming at his breath as he gave a trembling exhale. Her tongue snaked forward to flick the frost away and pull his mouth into another feverish kiss, kindling the fires of his passions. The flavor of the wine still lingered on their tongues, sweet and hot. </p><p>“Let me taste you, Ma’assan,” he said against her lips. “I have to taste you.” </p><p>She released him with a drawn out moan. She lay, breathless, as he moved his way back down the curve of her chest and abdomen. He laid her waist back on the bedding and lowered himself further, dragging greedy kisses to follow his hands until his face settled between her legs. Stars danced behind her eyelids as his grip ran down the underside of her thighs, pulling her knees up to rest her calves over his broad shoulders. He let his mouth hover torturously close to its goal, the roll of his hot breath over her sensitive skin enough to drive her mad. She tugged at her nipples, seeking sensation amidst the anticipation. In the silence she heard him take a deep inhale, filling himself with her scent as if sampling the bouquet of a fine wine. Shivers cascaded down her spine, blood rushing her cheeks and chest as she waited for what felt like forever. Finally, he descended, his large mouth engulfing her trembling flesh. The ancient tomb reverberated with the sound of her breathy cries as he lapped eagerly at her desire. She brought the slender fingers of one hand to weave into his thick hair while the other continued to twist and squeeze at her nipple. </p><p>Ma’assan stifled a scream as his lips enclosed upon her clit, her body curling into a deep arch. He rose with her hips, hands and mouth latched fervently to their prize. Her hips bucked and jolted, she panted through the pleasure as she felt sweltering waves of ecstasy build within her. His impassioned treatment quickly sent her climax thundering closer, muscles tightening and lungs seizing. He groaned against her orgasm, sucking at her trembling bud softly and delighting in the honeyed nectar she rewarded him with. Before the pleasure overwhelmed her, he dragged back and placed chaste kisses on her thighs. He raised himself up and traced his lips up her leg all the while, her ankles resting on his collar bones as he straightened. He moved one leg to fall back down and took the time to admire his work, the heaving woman beneath him flush with satisfaction, weak legs spread wide for him. Silver waves splayed messily beneath her, a few damp strands sticking to her face with blush red ears peeking from the tresses. He rested a hand over her stuttering heart, enjoying the deep rise and fall of her chest. </p><p>After relishing in the moment, he brought his pants down to free himself. His lover opened her eyes to peer down curiously, stealing a gasp as she took in his size. He was a huge warrior, easily two heads taller than her, so she wasn’t surprised. But, fear crept into her passions, nervous at how her small body may receive him. He seemed to sense her reservation, the hand resting over her heart sliding smoothly up her skin to cup her cheek. </p><p>“You can take me, Ma’assan. Just tell me if you need me to slow or stop.” His voice was the purest silk, and tension eased from her as his thumb traced over her bottom lip. He grinded his length against the hypersensitive flesh between her legs, stirring the hunger inside of her. His thick head pressed into her entrance, a loud groan vibrating against her calf as he bit down on the flesh there. The delicious, searing stretch fanned the flames of pleasure already engulfing her. He took his time sliding all the way inside of her and settled there with a few heavy breaths before drawing out almost all the way, then back in at that same slow grind. Her whimpers grew louder as his rhythm picked up speed, faster and faster until he was clutching her thigh with both hands to keep her bouncing her on his length. Groans rumbled from his clenched jaw as he vigilantly studied her face, his hair tousling across his shoulders. </p><p>She was lost in a sea of pleasure, mind, body, and spirit riding surging waves of bliss. Everything was aflame and she was sure her bones had disappeared. Somewhere in their feverish cries they called each other’s names. His rhythm began to break, tossing her leg aside to throw himself down over her. His large arms wrapped tightly around the small of her back, damp forehead pressed between her breasts as he thrust into her in a frenzy. Both of their bodies quaked as orgasm roared over them, the harmony of their song peaking before trembling voices and hips fell to a slow stop. The intensity ebbed and they held tightly onto each other, gasping for air. Every thought had seeped its way out of Ma’assan’s head, euphoria flowing through her veins. </p><p>“Your wound.” Concern infiltrated Argis’ voice as he raised from her chest, looking at the bloodied bandages on her shoulder. She looked down, the pain beginning to creep back in. But she only smiled, holding him close and taking a deep breath. The rapturous energy that’d filled her was siphoned into her magic and both of their bodies began to glow with shimmering, golden light. He moaned, tightening to bring her as close as possible as the healing warmth strummed through them. When the light faded, he looked up at her with a boyish smile as though he’d just been tickled. She couldn’t help but laugh, kissing his forehead and sighing with a smile. </p><p>“Is this what you intended when you offered me your help?”</p><p>He chuckled, shaking his head. </p><p>“Nothing, with you, ever goes as intended.” He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, humming softly as he pulled out and laid beside her. With him at her back and the fire facing her chest, she was wrapped in warm, comfortable safety until she fell asleep.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lucky Ma’assan, ravished by two strong warriors. If only we could get them to bed her at the same time!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ma’assan returns home to Whiterun to find Vilkas has left her a gift.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short SFW chapter. Lydia and Inigo make an appearance in this one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Ma’assan and Argis awoke in each other’s arms the next morning they both seemed entirely refreshed and the tension that had occupied their interactions disappeared. He packed up the camp, insistent on doing so alone so that she could rest her arm, and then they headed back to Markarth. It was nice just being with him, though her thoughts did still drift to Vilkas. They were comfortably silent for the most part, exchanging the occasional knowing smile and brushing against each other as they walked. Ma’assan enjoyed the fresh air and clear sky. If it weren’t for the fresh snow, piled high, you’d think a storm had never afflicted these skies. Thankfully the journey back was free of wolves and bandits and didn’t take long. </p><p>It wasn’t until they got back to Vlindrel Hall, though, that she began to feel an ache creep over her heart. Argis went to store their traveling gear as she took a seat near the hearth and held out her hand, sparking fire to the wood and warming herself by the growing flames. She came here to distract herself, and she’d certainly done that, but she needed to go back home. Vilkas was wrong about that morning; what she felt between them was more than just the blood, and she’d felt it long before they slept together. He knew that, and he felt it too, she could see it in his eyes. Why was he being so stubborn about it?</p><p>“Something on your mind?”</p><p>A silver mug disrupted her view of the fire and she realized she’d been staring into it. She smiled and looked up at Argis as he handed her the drink. Their fingers grazed each other as she took it and her thighs squeezed together at the contact. His fingers had done such wonderful things in such lovely places just hours ago. She could have that now if she wanted, the look in his eyes told her so. <em> No more distractions. </em></p><p>“Yes… I wanted to thank you,” she said. </p><p>He raised a brow as he sat in the chair beside her, leaning forward onto his knees and taking a sip from his mug.</p><p>“Was it that good, then?” He chuckled and she found herself blushing, having already been nervous at the prospect of this conversation. She took a sip of the ale he’d given her to cool her cheeks and continued, disregarding his question.</p><p>“You’ve done so much for me, much more than what’s expected,” the blush intensified, “and I don’t just mean… snow storm comforts. I care for you, and…”</p><p>“And you need to go back to Whiterun,” he said simply. She swallowed hard and searched his face.</p><p>“Yes… I —”</p><p>“You don’t have to explain anything. I was happy to have the time we did, and I’m here for you always.” He offered a warm smile and reached over to take her small hand in his. “But, I told you… I know that look. When you came here, you were razor focused on killing something to distract yourself. I’m just glad I could help you… <em> relax </em>.” He leaned back and let go of her hand, his smile dimming as he took a large gulp of ale. “Didn’t stop you from mumbling ‘Vilkas’ in your sleep, though.”</p><p>Ma’assan froze, mortified. Feelings like this rarely came over her; she wasn’t sure what to say.</p><p>“That’s… unfortunate.” Not particularly clever. “I’m sorry,” she said with genuine remorse, but was met only with a soft chuckle.</p><p>“It’s alright. I just wanted you to know I understand. And if anything ever changes...” He flashed her a grin.</p><p>“You will most certainly be the first to know.”</p><p>The two clinked their mugs together, before drinking in unison. </p><p>“Just be sure that he’s worthy, hm? You’re the Dragonborn, your songs will be sung for ages.” His eyes dragged to the fire and his grin grew devilish against the mouth of his mug. “And your tits are perfect.” </p><p>She nearly spit the ale out. The enchantress covered her mouth and stifled a laugh as she swallowed the frothing booze, before letting her hand fall from her mouth to reveal an amused smile. </p><p>“And will you sing them? My songs,” she asked with a laugh. He laughed as well, nodding and keeping his soft gaze focused on the fire.</p><p>“Aye, I’ll sing them.”</p><hr/><p>Ma’assan made it back to Whiterun a few days later, arriving pretty late at night. She’d sent word ahead to Lydia and Inigo, making sure to let them know she was safe and would be arriving in three days time. She hoped they would be waiting up for her; it would be good to see them and she didn’t want to be the only one up in a quiet house. As she approached her home she saw someone leaving. As she drew closer, she realized who it was.</p><p>“Vilkas?” she called out, and it seemed to startle him. He turned to her with an unreadable expression, and for a moment he seemed relieved to see her. She allowed a smile, but saw his nose twitch, and his expression soured.</p><p>“It’s been two weeks,” he said curtly.</p><p>“Did something happen?” <em> Maybe that’s why he’s here </em>. He seemed taken aback by the question, but didn’t respond immediately. He gazed upon her face, as though wanting to take in every detail. Admiration turned to exhaustion, and he dropped his head.</p><p>“No… no, nothing’s happened.” He seemed to be looking for more words. She stayed quiet, waiting for him to find them. “The Companion’s will be glad to know that you’re back,” he said formally, giving a nod before quickly departing down the street.</p><p>“... Goodnight!” she called out to his back, a bit bewildered. Why was he in her home? It was, admittedly, butterfly inducing to see him, but the emotional whiplash of the interaction only served to remind her of the sorry state of their relationship. They needed to talk, but not now. The journey was long and she was tired.</p><hr/><p>“You’re back!” Inigo cried, jumping from his seat by the home’s hearth fire to rush over and wrap his arms around her. “It’s good to see you.” He snuggled close and dropped his voice to a breathy whisper. “Don’t ever leave me with Lydia again.”</p><p>“I’ve missed you!” she laughed against the cat’s thick blue fur before pulling back to look at him. “And don’t worry, I won’t. Your company was sorely missed.”</p><p>“The feeling is mutual, my friend! How are you feeling? You look much better!” Inigo stepped back, scanning her from head to toe with approval. He was always honest about appearances. <em> Always </em>. She smirked and nodded in thanks.</p><p>“Yes, I feel much better, but I am curious… why was Vilkas just here?”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Inigo said, stifling a smile and rubbing at his chin. “I think you should check upstairs, friend.” He motioned with his head to the upper level as the smile broke onto his face. She raised a brow and looked up towards the loft. “He <em> did </em>want you to know that Lydia did it all herself and he was never here. Now go! Enjoy your gift!” He pushed her towards the stairs before moving back to his seat by the fire. “I will be here. You can tell me of your travels over dinner. He also brought sweet rolls!” The khajit made himself comfortable in his place, gathering up a roll he’d been toasting by the coals and gleefully peeling at its flaky layers. She couldn’t help but smile at her old friend, making a mess of his face and fingers in his efforts to consume the sticky treat. He helped this new place feel more like home than any place had in a long while, and she was so thankful to live and fight by his side. </p><p>The smoky scent of roasted meat filled her senses and she looked past him to the kitchen and the impressive feast laid out there: Roasted chicken, fresh bread, a winter medley of seasoned vegetables, creamed potatoes, and the most important dish present, mudcrab chitin legs with melted butter. Did Vilkas really do all of this? The curiosity of what could be waiting upstairs began to consume her. She ascended the steps to the loft between her and Lydia’s bedroom, smiling softly to the housecarl when she opened her door.</p><p>“Lydia, it’s good to see you.”</p><p>“Honor to you, my Thane.” Lydia nodded in greeting before looking to Ma’assan’s closed bedroom doors. “I tried to keep the Companion from invading your personal quarters as he did, but he was very persistent. Inigo was no help.” She pointed the comment at the khajit downstairs, peering over the railing at him. He continued eating, undisturbed. </p><p>“It’s alright, Lydia… I think.” She looked to her doors as well. “I suppose I should check what’s happened in there.”</p><p>“I’m glad he insisted. It’s sweet...what he did.” The warrior slipped a girlish smile. Ma’assan was shocked, she’d never seen Lydia react in such a way. Inigo frequently landed painfully accurate jabs about the ice queen and her musings - or lack thereof. Ma’assan could feel him gaping from where she stood, and didn’t have to turn over her shoulder to know he was staring at the blushing warrior in just as much surprise as she was. Lydia took notice of their reactions and quickly withdrew, swinging the door closed behind her.</p><p>“Thank you, Lydia!” she called to the closed door with a grin before moving to her own. Her stomach fluttered and jumped as she approached, nervous and excited to uncover Vilkas’ mysterious gift.</p><p>When she opened the doors, she gasped. A polished, hand carved walnut bathtub rested in the corner of her room, perfectly placed beside her desk and dresser, dark complexion complimenting the deep, subdued tones of her room. The doors fell closed behind her and she moved closer to inspect the bath. It’d been filled with fresh water and decorated with violet petals that floated quietly over the still mirror. The wood was thick, and the edges held a host of unlit candles and three small, beautiful glass bottles containing lightly tinted oils. She leaned over to gather them, opening each and sampling their contents. Blue mountain flower healing oil, the ever relaxing and sleep inducing nightshade oil, and a final bottle that smelled simply of sweet, fresh violets. Nearby, on the desk, a small plate of snowberries - her favorite - sat beside a copy of the second volume of Feyfolken, which she’d been trying to find for weeks.</p><p>Tears began to blur her vision, but she pushed them away immediately. <em> How could he do this and pretend not to care? No one’s ever done something so thoughtful for me. I wish he would have stayed </em>. She had half a mind to march to Jorrvaskr and drag him back to bathe with her like she knew he wanted to, but she was too tired to deal with his stubbornness. She would accept his gift, enjoy dinner with her friend, and worry about it tomorrow. </p><p>She disrobed, waving a hand over the water and heating it to the perfect temperature before stepping in. Waves of molten electricity washed over her as she sunk into the pool, giving a sigh and waving again to raise flames to the candles lining the edge. The room plumed with warm, soft light, and she soaked, relaxed, and began her new book.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Cure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ma’assan heads to Jorrvaskr to thank Vilkas for the gifts and learns that Kodlak wants to speak to her.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Dialogue heavy chapter here! Getting into the story and more Ma’assan and Vilkas.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The previous night had restored her: Delicious food, great company, a nice hot bath and a good book. Now she headed to Jorrvaskr with a smile, ready to thank Vilkas for his gifts, and confront him. The morning was calm and the sky clear, a nice breeze carrying the smell of roasted meats and fresh bread from The Bannered Mare. The smell was only occasionally interrupted by the romantic aroma of the violet oils perfuming her skin and hair. Ma’assan bounded up the steps and swung open the door to the main hall, her happy expression dropping when she met the stern eyes of Aela, standing just beyond the entryway with arms folded.</p><p>“I hear you’ve been bringing the battle to the Silver Hand, friend.” She offered a smile before continuing, “I wish I could’ve been there with you. Soon enough.” </p><p>“Were you <em> waiting </em> for me for me, Aela? Did you smell me and come running to the door like a puppy?” Ma’assan said, grin returning. One corner of Aela’s mouth pulled for a smirk before fading back to its more characteristic hard line, and she sighed. </p><p>“I fear that Kodlak’s gotten wind of our recent efforts. He’s asked to see you alone.” The huntress stepped closer. “Be honest, but don’t tell him anything he doesn’t need to know.”</p><p>As Aela left, Ma’assan felt her stomach tighten, the way it had when she was a child and her mother sent her to her father’s study. She had a deep respect for Kodlak. He was kind and allowed her the chance to prove herself when all others were suspicious of her; a foreigner, an Altmer, a sorceress. Even with the Companion’s dark history with elves, he never looked at her differently. And now she and Aela had taken it upon themselves to wage war against the werewolf hunting Silver Hand, explicitly without his approval. To her shame, her most recent bout of slayings had been incited by something as petty as a broken heart. <em> Wonderful way to repay the man who you owe this position to. </em>She scolded herself as she began to make her way downstairs to the living quarters. Even so, she didn’t regret killing sadistic werewolf hunters and she would stand by it, especially after they murdered Skjor. She and Aela were protecting the Companions. She was protecting Vilkas.</p><p>As she walked down the hall to the Harbinger’s room, that husky scent of cedar tickled its way up her nose. <em> Vilkas. </em>She’d almost forgotten that she’d come here to speak to him. Kodlak, and the reprimand likely in store for her, could wait just a moment while she took a detour to Vilkas’ quarters. </p><p>After a few soft knocks at his door, he granted her entry, and she stepped in to see him standing over his desk, papers and books laid neatly atop with strong hands bracing down on them. The desk was rosewood. It was new, though not much different from the oak piece he’d had. She wondered why he’d felt the need to change it, but the thought didn’t linger for long. Hardly any thoughts surfaced while she lost herself in his visage. Messy, dark hair fell just over pale grey eyes and gaunt cheekbones. His brow was cut with focus, beautifully studious.</p><p>“Kodlak is looking for you,” he said bluntly. Her smile grew mischievous; of course he would be formal. She wouldn’t allow it. She closed the door behind her and drew closer.</p><p>“Yes, I was on my way to speak to him. I just needed to ask you something,” she said, swaying over to the desk.</p><p>“What is it? Find something interesting in your travels?” He stayed stubbornly focused on the work in front of him. She brought a hip to lean against the wood near his hand, aware that the scent of violet oil perfuming her skin would be unavoidable from this distance. Their proximity also meant she could feel the heat radiating from his body. He didn’t look at her, but he didn’t move either.</p><p>“Violets,” she started. “Do you like them, or did you know I would like them?” </p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to. If you’ll excuse me.” He withdrew his hands, finally meeting her eyes. The look in his seemed to flash a warning, but his expression glazed over with lust. Her grin widened and she hopped onto his desk, crossing her legs and stretching back. The wolf’s gaze lathered her body with attention.</p><p>“Did you really think that my closest friend and a warrior who’s sworn her life to me would keep your little secret? Not to mention I <em> saw you </em>leave my home. You may be able to swing a sword but your stealth needs work.”</p><p>“You’re impossible.” His eyes narrowed and she laughed, canting her head to the side.</p><p>“Pot, meet kettle.”</p><p>“I have no time for childishness,” his voice grew darker. “Please. Excuse me.” His attention flicked to the papers flattened beneath her ass. She’d noticed his hands had balled to fists; was he truly upset or just trying to restrain himself? She hoped for the latter.</p><p>“So you go to my home, prepare a small feast, build a luxurious bathtub, leave expensive oils, find the next volume of my favorite book for me, then run like a pup with his tail tucked only to deny everything.” She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee. “And I’m the impossible child?”</p><p>“It was nothing but a gift between warriors,” he managed through clenched teeth.</p><p>“Oh, that’s interesting. Do you leave Kodlak bath oils too? Maybe something to perfume his beard with?” Her sarcasm was clearly not appreciated.</p><p>“Is there a reason you’re here other than to antagonize me?”</p><p>“I told you,” her voice grew soft, “violets. I understand healing oils, nightshade for sleep. But why violets?” </p><p>For just a moment, his mask faltered and his fists loosened up.</p><p>“You don’t like them?”</p><p>“I love them,” she assured him. “I <em> loved </em>all of it. I wish you would have stayed.” She stepped down from the desk, inching closer. His grip tightened again, but his eyes pleaded with her to touch him. She reached a warm hand out to his cheek, and he stepped back.</p><p>“... Leave.”</p><p>“Vilkas-”</p><p>“Now!” </p><p>She stopped, withdrawing her hand and glaring at him.</p><p>“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I <em> will not </em> be part of it anymore,” she said, growing cold.</p><p>“I never asked you to be!” he snapped back.</p><p>“No! You only fucked me in the woods, made me dinner, and drew me a bath! <em> How </em>could I have misunderstood your intentions?!” Ma’assan tried to refrain from violence as her beast began to gnaw. “And don’t blame this on the blood! I care so much for you and I know you care too!”</p><p>“I will not do this with <em> you!”  </em></p><p>“With <em> me </em>? Another Companion? The Dragonborn? An Altmer?!” she shouted. He said nothing. “You make me feel crazy and ridiculous for caring about you! I can’t do this! I know you want me, so admit it! Tell me the truth!” He threw himself down in his desk chair, clenching his teeth and glaring at the rustled papers on his desk. “Nothing...What are you so afraid of?” After more silence, she turned to leave. He jerked up, apparently overcome with remorse, reaching out for her.</p><p>“Wait! Ma’assan!”</p><p>“You can keep your gifts,” the elf hissed before slamming the door.</p><hr/><p>Ma’assan tried to smother her rage as she stomped down the hall, nearly crashing into Aela when she turned the corner. The huntress clenched Ma’assan’s shoulders, bringing her to a halt and examining her flustered expression before rolling her eyes to Vilkas’ door.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Aela,” she huffed and continued on. The last thing she wanted to do was rehash whatever that conversation had just become. Instead, she’d go to Kodlak’s room, ready for the distraction of a good lecture. </p><p>The door was open and the wise wolf sat by the light of the fire, writing in his journal. When she approached, he smiled and waved her in.</p><p>“Come, youngling, have a seat.” He tucked the leatherbound book away, leaning back in his chair and facing his full attention on her as she sat in the seat across him. “I hear you’ve been busy of late.” His tone was surprisingly casual.</p><p>“Aela and I have been working to avenge Skjor’s death.” She gave the truth.</p><p>“Your hearts are stricken with grief, and my own weeps at the loss of Skjor, but his death was avenged long ago. You have taken more lives than honor demanded and I fear the cycle of retaliation will continue. You must cease this senseless killing. As your Harbinger, I command it.” </p><p>She wanted to defend herself, to argue for the cleansing of their hunting grounds from werewolf hunters. But he was her Harbinger, and he was right. She and Aela had been slaughtering camps indiscriminately, wiping the Hand out on the map. They’d been waging war, all on their own, without much thought to the consequences. She watched the shadows on the hardwood, nodding solemnly. </p><p>“In any case, I called you here because I have a task for you. Have you heard the story of how we came to be werewolves?” he asked, leaning in close. Ma’assan raised her gaze, curiosity piquing.</p><p>“Skjor believed it a blessing from Hircine. Vilkas says it’s a curse laid upon the ancient Companions.” Ma’assan wasn’t sure of the truth and it didn’t seem anyone she’d spoken to was either.</p><p>“Vilkas has a nugget of truth, but reality is more complicated than that. It always is.” The Harbinger let go a heavy sigh and Ma’assan leaned in as well.</p><p>“So what is the truth, then?”</p><p>“The Companions are nearly five thousand years old. This matter of beast blood has only troubled us for a few hundred. One of my predecessors was a good, but short-sighted man. He made a bargain with the witches of Glenmoril Coven. If the Companions would hunt in the name of their lord, Hircine, we would be granted great power.”</p><p>“And they became werewolves?”</p><p>“They were unaware the change would be permanent. The witches simply offered payment, like anyone else. But we had been deceived.” He fell back in his chair, turning to the fire. “As I’ve shared with you before, the disease affects not only our bodies, but our spirits. For some, they want nothing more than to chase prey with Hircine for eternity. But I am a true Nord and I wish for Sovngarde as my spirit home.” His voice was akin to a mourner’s. He’d told Ma’assan before of his long and winding search for the cure. After so much effort here he was, in his twilight years, still afflicted. She wished Sovngarde for the wise Nord as well.</p><p>“I will find a way to cure you,” she said. Kodlak gave a hearty laugh.</p><p>“Fear not, child. I have found the answer,” he said with a smile, Ma’assan perking to listen. “The witches’ magic ensnared us, and only their magic can release us. They won’t give it willingly, but we can extract their foul powers by force. Go to Glenmoril Coven, strike them down as a true warrior of the wild, and bring me their heads; the seat of their abilities. From there, we may begin to undue centuries of impurity.” Kodlak’s grey eyes shined with hope.</p><p>“It shall be done.” She came to stand, giving a soft bow of her head.</p><p>“Good. I have full confidence in you, Ma’assan. Since the day we met, you have only exceeded my expectations. I’m happy to call you shield sister.” He returned the nod. “Move quickly, and leave none alive. Talos guide you, dovahkiin.”</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>A cure. A cure for Kodlak, for Vilkas, for Farkas.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She was sure Aela wouldn’t be interested, but for the first time it was an option. An option for Ma’assan as well. The power and thrill of the blood had offered excitement and euphoria at first, but the restless strain of nightmares, whispers in the dark, clawing at her spirit, howling in her mind, feverish sleepless nights: It was beginning to wear on her. More than once, Aela had left Ma’assan to return home alone after spontaneously deciding to change in the woods. Aela grew up in the wilds, and embraced the wolf within with arms wide open, but Ma’assan’s creature tore at her. She didn’t often transform at will as a matter of preference. She’d felt compelled to accept the blood when she was asked to join the inner circle. Accept, become an honorable high ranking warrior of the Companions. Don’t accept, remain the outcast. It seemed a simple choice, and one that would bring her closer to her chosen family. But, it clouded her already crowded mind. The Voice was strong, her magic even stronger. She wanted to honor these parts of herself, but the jealous wolf demanded to be sated first and foremost. It was exhausting, and occasionally agonizing. Additionally, the prospect of being dragged to an endless hunting ground to exist as a beast for eternity with a Daedric prince-master sounded like a hellish afterlife.</span>
</p><p>She walked down the hall to leave, but staggered to a stop when she heard shouting from Vilkas’ closed door.</p><p>“Damnit Aela! Not all of us feel that way!” The muffled sound of Vilkas’ angry voice bellowed through the oak. “You infected her with this <em> curse!” </em> </p><p>“<em> Curse? </em> Ha! You sound just like the old man.” Aela’s voice sounded back. Ma’assan drew closer to the door.</p><p>“How dare you! Have you no respect for your Harbinger!”</p><p>“I love Kodlak. I respect and follow him, but he’s wrong on this. It’s no curse! We’re made into the greatest hunters in the land. If he’s worried about some mead-swelling after in Sovngarde, he’s free to pursue it. I’ll take the glories of the hunt right here.”</p><p>“That is <em> your </em>choice! You took hers from her!!” His voice boomed. Aela’s voice raised in kind.</p><p>“She is a warrior, not some naive child! Joining The Circle was her own choice and we are stronger for having her as our shield-sister! <em> You </em>would be stronger if you let her in!”</p><p>“She is better than this!”</p><p>“And what is better! We are more alive than any cozy lord or lady will ever be! She is the Dragonborn! What would you have her do!” </p><p>The back and forth had Ma’assan hanging on every word, and a sudden silence between the two made her draw as close as she could without alerting them to an eavesdropper.</p><p>“This is pointless. We’re finished here,” Vilkas said, quieter now. </p><p>“Ysgramor himself wouldn’t have the patience to deal with you! Ever since Elle disappeared-” Something heavy crashed behind the door. <em> Did he throw something? </em></p><p>“You would do well to hold your tongue on matters you know nothing of, <em> shield sister.” </em></p><p>“Is that a threat, <em> brother?”  </em></p><p>Uneasy silence returned. Who was Elle and why was he ready to kill Aela at the mention of her name? </p><p>It’d been quiet for too long.</p><p>The elf knocked on the door as she opened it to see them nose to nose. Aela glared up at Vilkas, looming over her, both of their eyes lit dimly with otherworldly fire. Her presence hardly seemed to distract them, but the fires died. Soon, Aela stepped back, both parties drafting deep, quiet breaths.</p><p>“You have your work cut out for you, sister,” the huntress growled before marching out. Ma’assan made space in the doorway as her shield sister blew past, fixing herself back to the center of the frame and scowling at Vilkas. He seemed to find it amusing.</p><p>“I thought you weren’t part of this anymore?” </p><p>“I wasn’t, until I heard you and Aela ready to kill each other from the hall.”</p><p>“Well, she’s gone and your valiant work here is done.” He sat on his bed, dropping his head in his hands with a sigh. Ma’assan stepped into the room and swung the door shut.</p><p>“Not until you tell me the truth.”</p><p>“Ysgramor’s beard! Will I be terrorized all night?!” he shouted into his hands.</p><p>“I deserve real answers!” Now she was shouting again, anger rushing back like she’d never left the blasted room. “Tell me the reason you keep running from me.” She pressed him, and finally he was too tired to fight back or put up a facade. </p><p>“<em> I am not in the mood,” </em>he spat. The fire in his eyes was reborn, flickering in warning, like a dog baring its teeth.</p><p>“I don’t care! Who is Elle!”</p><p>Before she could blink he was in front of her, snarling, mouth gaping as his teeth began to stretch into fangs. The flickers in his eyes burst into wildfire and the sides of his handsome face began to break into thick black fur. She stood, unflinching, narrowing her eyes at the wolf who dared challenge her.</p><p>“I am not a wilting flower, you do not frighten me.” His slow, labored breaths pushed wisps of silver hair back from her face.</p><p>“<em> I should. </em>” His voice had twisted into something else. A deep, bassy rumble, like something from a nightmare.</p><p><em> He thinks himself so petrifying. This is going nowhere. </em>She huffed and turned to leave. </p><p>“The only one terrorizing you is yourself. Goodnight, Vilkas.”</p><p>The door slammed behind her.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will be NSFW *wink*</p><p>A lot of Aela and Kodlak dialogue is sampled from the game here, just playing with the canon story for the most part :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Breaking and Entering</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After their fight, Vilkas finds himself drawn back to the very woman he’s been working so hard to push away.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>NSFW Vilkas and Ma’assan!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vilkas stood quietly before Ma’assan’s bedroom doors, clenching his teeth and trying to convince himself not to enter. He’d lain awake in bed, restless, replaying their fight in his head. After <em> purposefully </em> pushing her away, the result was expected and in everyone’s best interest. But, his heart…his heart ached and tugged for her. She’d been right of course; it wasn’t the blood. It wasn’t just lust. It was the long conversations they’d shared by Jorrvaskr’s dying hearthfire after everyone else had gone to bed. It was the lingering smiles she offered him before reluctant departures. It was her quick, light footwork and the flourish of her sword, glinting against the sunlight, as she bested him in combat. It was the lightning storm that seized his lungs when she laid a naked hand against his skin. He cared... <em> so much </em>. It was impossible to hide. The wolf found himself drawn to her even as he denied her with every breath. He cursed himself for coming here like this; a creep, a sneaking wolf in the night, but here he was.</p><p>He’d been sick with worry when she’d taken off to the Reach. She never went anywhere without Inigo and she’d run off alone, after he’d treated her so coldly. If anything had happened to her, he would’ve never forgiven himself for the final moments they shared together. The night she returned, seeing her safe was a relief…but the wind carried a musk on her scent: The faded smell of another man. Jealousy panged deep in his gut, and everything he’d thought to say to her carried away on the breeze. Had he been so cruel as to drive her out of town and into the arms of someone else? He had to remind himself that he had no right to feel that way after leaving her naked in the woods. Besides, she was a dragon. She was free to make her own choices and could not be owned or tamed by anyone - as Aela had so graciously reminded him earlier. He had no interest in ownership anyhow, he merely wanted to be near her in any capacity. The black ice encasing his heart thawed so sweetly when she visited him, and recently he’d even begun to feel it beat again.</p><p>He wondered how long he’d been standing there in the dark. The house was silent, save for the soft crackle of a low fire in the hearth downstairs. Everyone was asleep and Vilkas had dressed light, in just his trousers and thin tunic, to sneak into the home and up to Ma’assan’s room undetected. His wolf had convinced him, in his exhaustion, that what he had to say couldn’t wait for morning. He would have to go now. He would <em> have </em>to see her now. If he’d enjoyed more than a few hours sleep the past week, he was sure he’d have exercised better judgement. But, she wouldn’t mock his stealth again; though he would have to have some very serious words with her companions for not waking to discover him. Anyone could have snuck in to hurt them, or the Dragonborn. He sighed softly as he realized he was only continuing to distract himself, and slowly opened the door to go in.</p><p>He froze halfway inside, hearing Ma’assan’s voice. His grey eyes looked to the bed. He couldn’t see her face but she was shifting softly under the furs, cooing. He worried she was having a nightmare with the way she was moving about in her sleep. His pale gaze focused and narrowed as he closed the door noiselessly behind him and crept his way closer. When he was close enough, he beheld that her eyes were closed and she writhed beneath the soft bedding, gentle features twisting in…<em> sweet bliss </em>. Long tendrils of silken hair pooled beneath her and the light of the moons spilled in through slats in the wooden ceiling, striping her with their cool rays and making her silver waves shine. The deep pink of her parted lips was mimicked in the blush of her cheeks and chest. He was mesmerized, and it took him a moment to realize what she was doing.</p><p>Ma’assan’s legs were spread beneath the bedding and her hands were between them, the soft fox furs above shifting and swirling with her motions. Her back arched against her own touch and the sheets slid down just enough for him to see her beautiful breasts. <em> Is she completely naked? </em>An involuntary groan slipped from his lips and her eyes flashed open. She shot up, yanking the covers over her chest as bliss quickly turned to fury. He threw up his hands, and spoke before she had the chance to yell.</p><p>“<em> I apologize </em> ,” he whispered. “I didn’t expect to catch you in such an… <em> intimate </em> moment.” Magic had filled the air around the surprised elf, causing the surface of Vilkas’ skin to tingle with an unnerving current of electricity.</p><p>“<em> What are you doing here? </em>” </p><p>He tried to ignore the scent of her sex permeating the room. <em> I am here to apologize. I am not here to ravish you until the sun comes up, over and over and- </em></p><p>“You were right.” He swallowed hard. “You deserve real answers. I want to give them to you.” He looked into her eyes and she seemed to search his. The buzz tightening his muscles faded and she pulled the sheets up higher, scooting so he could sit beside her. She folded her arms tightly against herself and fixed a glare at him with her large, almond shaped eyes, hair hanging messily about her face, cheeks and pointed ears still boasting a beautiful blush pink. He began to lose himself again and tried not to smile. The glare remained.</p><p>“<em> Speak </em>.”</p><p>“Violets….” He offered a shy smile and her expression began to soften in return. “Violets are my favorite flower. I was sure they would compliment your scent.” His eyes rolled over the smooth line of her collarbones. “I was right.” Drawing his gaze back up to her face, he noted she still seemed guarded but less than before. He continued. “When I first began the transformations, my beast would always take me to the same meadow by morning. Whenever I woke there at dawn I could smell damp violets. It washed me with calm before reality set in again… That smell has brought me peace for many years.” </p><p>“And you wanted to share that peace with me.” The ghost of a smile touched her lips and her warm hand slid over the bedding to rest over his. “Thank you. I hope it will help me bring you the same.” Her quiet voice had grown sweet. This side of her always surprised him. She was a fearsome warrior and still, so kind and warm. After all he’d done to hurt her, she was here listening, thanking him for his vulnerability. He hadn’t expected it, and was fully aware he didn’t deserve it.</p><p>“You don’t need violets to do that.” His smile tugged wider and he laced his fingers with hers. “Besides, it’s your happiness I seek. So much rests on the shoulders of the Dragonborn, but you are still a woman. You should be allowed tranquility.” He raised her hand to his lips, feathering kisses over its soft back. “To enjoy the small, simple pleasures.”</p><p>“Like hot baths and sweet rolls?” A smile began to creep onto her lips, her voice breathy as she leaned in closer. Her blush pink bloomed into a deep red.</p><p>“You deserve many sweet things…” He held her hand to his cheek and drew closer, stopping an inch or two away from those red lips. She smelled of those very violets and of honey-sweet arousal. He was unable to stop himself from throbbing in his pants at this distance.</p><p>“Will you pull away again and claim this night was just a dream induced by nightshade oils?” Her lust glazed expression softened to worry. “<em>Is</em> <em>this</em> a dream induced by nightshade oils?”</p><p>He gave a soft chuckle and grazed their noses together, pressing their locked hands to his heart.</p><p>“This is no dream. I am very much here.” His eyes closed as their foreheads came together and he grew serious. “But so is my beast…always lurking.” He squeezed her hand in his. “I’m so scared, Ma’assan.” </p><p>Their lips finally met, hot breath rushing over his face from her feverish kiss. He didn’t let go of her hand, their laced fingers now clutched together between their chests. His free hand cradled her neck and ran a thumb along the sensitive blade of her ear to procure a soft gasp. Their starved tongues danced, each desperate to taste the other.</p><p>“<em> I’m terrified </em> .” His voice broke against their kiss and he pushed her body down under his, trailing kisses over her chin and down her throat as his knee pushed between her legs above the covers. The movement drew a whimper from her that sent chills down his spine, his heartbeat hammering in his trousers now. He continued to speak against his own actions but wouldn’t dare tear himself from her skin. “We are werewolves…we cannot be trusted to love.” He groaned as his lips made their way down to the collar bones he had been eyeing before. Large hands gathered hers and pinned them just above her head. “Our emotions run too high… <em> it’s dangerous </em>.” One large hand wrapped around both of her slender wrists while the other dragged greedily down her arm and side, then dipped under the covers to grip her ass. She arched her chest against his face, and he consumed one of her nipples with his hot, hungry mouth. She struggled to stifle her cries and he relished in being the cause. Quickly, he withdrew his hand from under the covers and clutched the surface. “We have to maintain control.”</p><p>He threw the furs from the bed and Ma’assan gasped, arching against the cool air. The wolf drew back to roll his gaze along her outstretched, naked body, pinned at the wrists.</p><p>“<em> Gods </em> , woman! Do you always wear <em> nothing </em> to bed?” He tried to maintain his whisper. </p><p>“Should I put something on?” Her lips curled into a mischievous smirk and she bit her lip, small hips wiggling against her bed with need. He moaned at the sight, falling back down to lavish her with kisses.</p><p>“<em> Never </em>,” he rumbled into her mouth.</p><p>With great effort, he pulled back once again to lust over her golden skin, still striped by the moon’s rays. He was sure she hadn’t filled the air with magic, but his skin felt electric nonetheless. Bringing a hand to rest on her hot thigh, it made a slow ascent up her hip bone and over the taut curve of her stomach to find heaving breasts waiting for him. His fingertips trailed large circles around her nipple, drawing closer to the bud with each pass. She watched his hand in suspense and he watched her, smiling softly and withdrawing from her chest at a snail’s pace before he’d reached his bullseye. A few loud whimpers slipped from her pouty lips and he brought his index finger over his grin.</p><p>“Shhh…” He drew a second finger up to join the first, licking them both wet. His fingers made an agonizingly slow fall to her nipple, withdrawing when she whimpered too loudly. When those fingers finally reached her, they latched on, pinching gently, tugging tightly, wet and warm like his tongue. He watched her eyes close and that blissful expression he’d been a voyeur to before was now his doing.</p><p>Ma’assan fought back louder moans as Vilkas’ mouth engulfed her other nipple, his tongue trapping the bud and sucking tenderly. His grip had grown tighter and tighter on her wrists but he could hardly stop himself. <em> More... </em></p><p>The wolf growled and pulled back, releasing her hands and deftly flipping the petite elf onto her hands and knees. Their laboured breaths and the gentle creaking of the bed filled the silent space as he quietly moved to kneel behind her. His tight grip latched to her hips and pulled her onto the hard length caged behind his trousers, rolling against that wet heat between her thighs, his jaw clenching as she bucked against him for more. The thin white tunic he’d worn fell swiftly to the ground to join the furs. Vilkas’ body curled over to feel his chest against the elf’s smooth back. A gentle moan emanated from him as his hands slid across her chest and over her shoulders in a cross, holding her close and burying his face in her neck. He rocked their hips and groaned against her skin, feeling her heartbeat thumping against his wrist, the intimacy threatening to quickly undo him. <em> More. </em></p><p>One of his hands began to drag down the center of her chest and over her belly button to his heart’s desire, pulling her so close they nearly lost their breath as he slipped his middle finger into her entrance. She tightened around him and tried to smother her moans as he continued to rock their hips harder, sliding his finger in and out while his thumb softly circled her clit in pace with his thrusts. Her body began to grow hotter and her breathing short. Making her feel this way drove him wild: The pounding of her heartbeat - which he could feel between her legs, the potent smell and taste that dripped from her, her powerful, deadly body, so soft and eager beneath his hands. The thought alone set his cock aching. <em> More! </em></p><p>Vilkas carefully pulled his hand from between her legs and withdrew his hips enough to pull his pants down and release himself. He didn’t have the patience to take them off completely and quickly began guiding his thick length to the warm embrace of his lover. Both of them let long, breathy groans escape as he slid inside of her, his hand moving back around her waist to keep circling her clit. The hand on her shoulder slid down to grasp at her breast, trapping a nipple between his fingers as he kneaded the soft mound and set a hard pace within her. The roughness of his thrusts were in stark contrast to the tender way he held her and swirled his fingers over her sensitive bud, hot breath rolling over the hollow behind her ear before he placed kisses there.</p><p>She felt amazing, squeezing him as he repeatedly rolled against the bundle of nerves inside of her. She throbbed under his dexterous fingers, and changes in his technique brought changes in the rhythm of the delicious trembling she was doing. He wished he had enough control to play with her more, but he hadn’t seen her in weeks and after the things he’d said, all he wanted was closeness. His body drove him, hungry for his lover’s climax. Fingers began to work quickly and increase pressure as his pace peaked, leaning back to sit on his knees and bringing her up with him. The hand palming her breast glided up to cover her mouth, denying an escape to her wanton cries of passion.</p><p>He grit his teeth and tried desperately to keep himself quiet as his hips bucked up into her. Even the sound of their bodies moving together had begun to grow loud, but suddenly — everything was silent. Unnaturally silent. His eyes opened over Ma’assan’s shoulder to see her hand extended, the tips of her fingers radiating a soft white glow. Ethereal wisps of translucent light swirled slowly around their bodies, muffling the sound within their small radius. Kissing her neck and shoulder through a smile, he dropped his hand from her mouth and stopped fighting his moans. He held her in a crushing embrace as his hips began to stutter against her ass, feeling the vibrations of the cries leaving her chest without hearing them. The rumble of his own rolled over her back as he felt her tighten and come, sending him over the edge and triggering his orgasm. He squeezed her impossibly close as he emptied himself within her, fucking her through their climaxes before letting his rhythm slowly ebb.</p><p>“<em> I love you </em>…” </p><p>His silenced voice sounded for no one but himself, and he felt safer that way. It felt so good to say it, even if she couldn’t hear it. As he came to a full stop, the spell did too and the quiet sound of their heavy breathing suddenly seemed loud. Vilkas leaned forward, still holding her tightly, and brought them both down to lay on their sides together. He cradled her as they caught their breath, still feeling her tighten and quiver on his softening length. His fingertips glided over her skin, adoring every dip and curve they came across. After a short time this way, he slowly removed himself from the bed and pulled his trousers back up.</p><p>“I’ll be right back…” he whispered. She gave a soft, sleepy moan in response. A smile spread over his lips, and he moved quietly to the tub he’d built for her where a cool, still damp cloth that smelled of nightshade lay draped over the side. Bringing it back to his lover, he cleaned up the mess they’d made and couldn’t help but chuckle as she began to fall asleep against his touch. It brought him great pride to be able to consistently fuck her into a slumber. His beautiful mate…But a line of panic still ran through him at the idea of what his beast could do to her in such a vulnerable state. For now, he would try to at least spend the night in peace, locking the thoughts away until morning. He put the cloth away and moved to lay beside her again, spooning her to his chest. </p><p>“Vilkas?” she whispered, half asleep. </p><p>“Mm?”</p><p>“Who is Elle?”</p><p>“...I… I can’t…” His grip around her tightened.</p><p>“It’s alright.” She leaned back into him, her voice warm and comforting. “Just stay…stay with me…”</p><hr/><p>Over an hour after she’d fallen asleep, Vilkas lay in bed awake. Even after reconciliation, he was restless. A pit was lodged in his throat, impossible to swallow: The truth, a sad story. He wanted so badly to tell her but the deep, sorry ache in his soul wouldn’t let him find the words. He’d never said it out loud and he never wanted to. Grey eyes watched the moons pass through the sky, his gaze rolling over occasionally to Ma’assan when she shifted and drew deeper into sleep. He hoped she was truly getting rest; with the blood, it was near impossible to get any kind of rejuvenating sleep. For Vilkas, it most often felt as though he hadn’t slept at all.</p><p>Slowly, he brought himself up to sit without waking her. He sighed and looked around the dark space before getting up and going to browse her small bookshelf. The copy of Feyfolken he’d given her was sitting on her desk, a bookmark already nestled a few chapters in. He smiled, then turned his attention to the small collection of books on the shelf, pulling their spines to examine covers and titles. One of them caught his interest; a large, dark book with what looked to be a Daedric prince on the cover, though he wasn’t sure which one. The illustration was beautiful, running his fingertips over the embellishment as he took a seat at her desk and leaned back to open it. It was thick, and the print small. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a book this dense.</p><p><em> The Dreamstride </em> . <em> Notes and alchemical research results by the Priests of Vaermina </em>. His weary eyes flashed wide at the discovery. This book would be priceless; the mysterious priests were masters of alchemy and their potions and recipes were highly sought after and exceedingly rare. He wondered where she could’ve gotten something like this as he began to flip through it curiously, careful of the state of the pages. It wasn’t just dense, it was ancient. What was it doing sitting where it was on the bookshelf? He’d have to build a proper case for her to store something so fragile; it needed to be preserved. As he got into an interesting bit of reading, he placed the book on the desk and leaned forward onto the wood.</p><p>
  <em> Exercise great care when handling and ingesting Vaermina’s Torpor: A single sip of the viscous liquid will place the imbiber within the Dreamstride… The condition will allow the subject to experience the memories of another as if they were there. The subject will be an integral part of the dream, behaving as if they belong. To any other entities in this dream state, the subject will be mistaken for the entity they are dreaming as; the subject may find their mannerisms, speech, and knowledge expanded appropriately. </em>
</p><p>He began to thumb through passages, reading at chunks of information until he was totally lost in the notes and research.</p><p>“Good morning,” Ma’assan said softly from the bed. </p><p>Vilkas looked over his shoulder and noticed the room was filled with dim, orange sunlight. His sweet elf yawned and stretched as she came to sit up, her white hair tousled around her sleepy face, wearing a smile that warmed his soul.</p><p>“Interesting choice.” She raised a brow and looked to the open book in front of him.</p><p>“Yes… it is. Where did you get it?” He returned his attention to the book, flipping back to a passage he’d read before to re-examine it.</p><p>“I helped a priest in Dawnstar that turned out to be a former follower of Vaermina,” she explained as she got up, smoothed her hair back, and swayed over to him. “We used that book and I kept it afterwards. It’s an interesting collection of experiments. It’s proven quite helpful.” Despite the casual conversation, the look on her face made it clear she was hoping to start their frenzy over again, but his reading had given him an idea he couldn’t ignore.</p><p>“Vaermina’s Torpor…. Do you think it works?” He looked up at her from his seat as she rested her hands on his shoulders and rubbed them softly.</p><p>“I know it works. I’ve used it,” she said with a smile. “It was remarkable. Highly dangerous and unpredictable, but remarkable.” Her hands glided over his chest as she lowered down to trace kisses on his jawline. “Curious about dreaming the memories of the past in some old Nordic ruin?” Her voice began to disappear into his neck.</p><p>“You used it? And nothing happened to you?” He furrowed his brow and leaned his head to give her warm lips access to his neck. The kisses she laid there were slow and wet and sent shivers down his spine.</p><p>“Impressed?” He felt her wry smile curl against his skin.</p><p>“I’ve just,” he cleared his throat, struggling to keep focused, “been reading for some time now. It’s difficult to control…” </p><p>Her hand glided down his shoulder to press firmly over his heart, kisses relenting for the moment. </p><p>“Magic is a matter of intention, focus, and feeling. I’ve had a strong connection with my magicka since I was a child. My parents helped me learn to find the path in the chaos.” Her low, breathy voice spoke beside him as she leaned over his shoulder to glance at the open book. “The Dreamstride was a place of chaos. A raging sea of memories and emotion, but there was still a current. I went in with a goal and a memory in mind - I found it.” She smiled softly and turned to look at him. “I’ve used it only once, though. I was lucky. The book offers many insights, as you seem to have learned.” Her smile grew crooked as she inched closer, returning her lips to his neck. The gears in his mind began to turn again and not even her sultry affection could distract him from this.</p><p>“So you can navigate the Dreamstride.”</p><p>“That’s being generous,” she said, a bit playfully, as she continued her work.</p><p>“I was thinking,” his voice lowered and he grew slightly hesitant, but quickly found his resolve, “I want you to use it to see my memory.”</p><p>Ma’assan’s paused a moment before she pulled back and narrowed her gaze on him.</p><p>
  <em> “...What?” </em>
</p><p>“Use the torpor to learn the truth,” he pleaded, but she didn’t seem convinced, and took a step back with a tilt of her head.</p><p>“You would have me use ancient Daedric potions to learn more about you than just tell me?”</p><p>“<em> Please, </em>Ma’assan. I cannot tell you this, but you have to know… you have to know who she is.” He stood, turning to her and hoping she would consent. Her face softened a bit and she sighed, staring at the book on the table.</p><p>“Is there no other way?”</p><p>“You have to see it… if you see it you’ll understand.” He was firm on this. Nothing would be held back; she would know everything and she would truly be free to make her choice then. She seemed to take a moment to make her decision before beginning to get dressed.</p><p>“So be it.” She slid on her tunic and trousers, moving to the storage trunk at the end of her bed and searching inside for a moment before carefully removing a sizable black bottle. “The book wasn’t the only thing I saved. The torpor would be almost impossible to make again. I thought it might be useful someday… I didn’t expect it would be for something like this.” She sighed and placed it on the desk before getting into her armor. “You’ll have to take me to where the memory begins.”</p><p>“We’re going now?”</p><p>“Of course we are! Kodlak’s tasked me with an important mission. I’ll have to pack up and go as soon as possible. But <em> you </em>have left me in an incredible amount of suspense. I must know before I Ieave town again.” </p><p>“So quickly? Kodlak’s not told me anything.” He was surprised Kodlak hadn’t disclosed to him what matter could be so urgent. “Why would he send you?” The question was more accusatory than he’d intended and Ma’assan’s brow quirked in response.</p><p>“I assume because I’m less likely to go rogue, like Aela, or lose my temper, like a certain nameless wolf.”</p><p>“I apologize… I don’t question your capabilities, I’m only curious what urgent mission our Harbinger would send you on. He usually brings such matters to my attention, or Skjor-” he paused. The Companion’s death was so recent and unexpected, Vilkas still found himself slipping in conversation. </p><p>“Well… he brought this one to me.” Her eyes cast downward and she seemed also to lose her thoughts to grief for a brief moment. “We’ll speak of this later.” She nodded softly and he returned the gesture. By now he was fully dressed and she made her way over to him. “Alright, we have everything we need. Are you ready?” Her gentle hand took his and squeezed it.</p><p>“... No, but I’m not sure I ever will be.” He tried for a smile before turning for the door with her. “Let’s go.”</p><p>The couple left Breezehome and made their way out of Whiterun, Vilkas guiding them into the woods.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Plays Terrible Thing by AG*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Elle’s Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vilkas leads Ma’assan into the woods outside of Whiterun to finally show her his secret.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Violence in this chapter! Not a huge amount, but def violence! SFW otherwise.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The walk to the woods was quiet. Vilkas clutched Ma’assan’s hand in his and led with steadfast determination. There was a trembling in his grasp, in his very energy. She’d sensed something similar in him once, the first time she’d laid her hand on his, but this was different. He felt scattered, frayed at the edges, <em> afraid </em>. She wondered what kind of memory awaited her past the thick, towering treeline. Thankfully, the golden sunrise streamed light through patches of dark leaves and the birds sang their morning melodies, helping to lift - if only slightly - the somber mood weighing over their trek. </p><p>Suddenly, he stopped.</p><p>“We should go back.” He remained focused on the forest. “This is too dangerous - we don’t know what will happen.”</p><p>“We’re Companions. We don’t stop when the path is dangerous, even if we’re afraid...Lead the way.”</p><p>“You said yourself that this mixture is unpredictable. What if something happens to you?”</p><p>“<em> Nothing </em>will happen to me.”</p><p>“How can you be so sure?” He finally turned to her, his brow twisted in pain.</p><p>“I have faith.” She brought her free hand to his, cradling his tight grip. “I have a destiny. Akatosh needs me, and he’s given me the tools to survive this realm’s challenges. Trust me, I can surprise you.” He squeezed her hands, continued trembling, and said nothing. “Vilkas…I know it’s difficult to feel ready to tell your story, but once you do it will eat away at you less and less. You can tell me. I want to listen, but you must have faith in me, and in yourself.” She stepped ahead, tugging softly on his hand. He stayed planted in the ground, staring into the woods. <em> Maybe we should go back. I’ve never seen him this way. </em></p><p>“We’re close now,” he said finally, continuing ahead with her in tow.</p><p>They hadn’t walked very far from town, but the quiet meadow they came to stop in was entirely secluded. The small break in the trees homed a vibrant patch of sunny grass, spotted with small, white flowers blooming low to the ground. Despite the calm of the sweetly perfumed air, Ma’assan sensed Vilkas’ energy plummet into disarray. Still, his body didn’t betray his anxiety, save for the crushing grip numbing her hand.</p><p>“It’s just a dream. You’ll be safe,” he said, assuring her as though she’d told him <em> she </em> was frightened. The comfort seemed more for himself, so she smiled warmly in agreement. Really, she was extremely curious and more than ready to be allowed into his heart. His worry was slightly contagious though, and she had only used the dangerous elixir once before. She had to remind herself she’d done things much more dangerous than this, with far more at risk.</p><p>“Here.” He brought her to stand in the middle of the clearing, then smoothed back her pale tresses and leaned in to rest a kiss on her forehead. She smiled against the warmth of his affection, lingering there for a moment. <em> I’ll show you that you need not be afraid. Not with me. </em>When they separated, she moved to sit. </p><p>“When I drink, I should vanish. Find me where the memory ends. If I’m not there...” She forced a smile, ignoring her mind’s anxious warnings about the potion’s unpredictable nature. “I’ll just find you.”</p><p>She uncorked the bottle, the contents as black as the Void and the smell reeking of rotten death. With a deep held breath, she took a small sip of the viscous torpor, gulping it down and struggling against retching, wishing desperately that she’d brought something to chase it with. The potion immediately began to do its work. Vilkas carefully took the bottle from her hands before she could drop it, and helped her to lay on the grass. Her vision went black and her body faded into nothing as she lost the sensation of her lover’s hands, and the ground beneath her. </p><hr/><p>The Nord gave a bored sigh, gazing up at the night sky as she lounged in the center of her and Vilkas’ little meadow. The full moons were huge and bright above her, shining cold light over the woodland that shimmered through its rustling leaves. </p><p>Ma’assan immediately realized she was dreaming as Elle. She’d expected to be experiencing Vilkas’ perspective and wondered if this was the right memory, but now that she was here there was nothing she could do but watch it unfold. She shared Elle’s mind, aware she’d been here for some time, waiting for Vilkas. For three years this small field was a haven for them to leave town and enjoy nature. They saw it through each season, and it saw them through theirs. They’d planned hunts, read books, had sparring sessions, made love. Ma’assan felt a small pang of jealousy at the depth of experiences they’d shared, hoping to one day make as many of her own memories with him. Mostly, she was glad he’d had a woman who loved him well and whole-heartedly. </p><p>Twigs snapped and dry leaves crunched under foot in the dark distance. Elle lifted her head to search the wilderness, jumping up when she saw a large figure trudging closer. She drew her training sword and hopped lightly on the balls of her feet, smiling when the shadow came into view.</p><p>“Thanks for finally joining me! I was starting to get lonely out here.” She forced a dainty huff and drew the back of her free hand to her forehead as if to faint. “A <em> poor </em>Nord maiden in the woods,” she cooed before leaping closer with a laugh. His disposition quickly nulled her own. He stood at the edge of the treeline, shrouded in darkness. It was only Vilkas...but, the sight was unnerving, and she found herself unable to move. Chilling winds swayed the leaves and creaking branches surrounding, allowing flashes of moonlight to reveal his feverish face. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“<em> I thought I could do this </em>…” His words were barely audible.</p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“We should go back into town.” He stepped further into shadow, turning towards the thick woodland. “Do this another night.” There was a cold detachment in his voice that he usually reserved for arguments. Elle agonized over what could be wrong with him, but Ma’assan knew the wolf’s secret. </p><p>“But we haven’t done this in ages!” She gazed up at the moons. “Besides, it won’t be light enough out without full moons.” </p><p>“<em> We’ll use torches </em>.” He stepped closer and came fully into the light. Ma’assan wondered when this memory took place. His dark hair flowed loose, long past his shoulders, and his youthful face had yet to develop the mournful lines of wisdom that she’d come to admire. That stern, pained expression was the same, though.</p><p>“Is something wrong? Are you ill?” She began to close the distance between them but he withdrew into darkness again.</p><p>“I’m fine… Farkas and I had an argument earlier, I’m a bit out of sorts.” She tried to accept his shallow excuse, and wondered if she could break him out of his morose mood with a bit of playfulness; it would certainly help her shake the sickly feeling building in her stomach. </p><p>“Well,” she offered a small smile and took her stance, slashing the air before her partner, “let’s work it out then!”</p><p>“<em> Not tonight </em>.”</p><p>“Come on! The enemy won’t pity your brotherly squabbles! I <em> promise </em>it’ll make you feel better.” She stepped forward and swiped for his shoulder only to see his gloved hand snatch the dull blade and rip the sword away, throwing it against a tree.</p><p>“NOT. TONIGHT.” </p><p>She was sure she saw his eyes flash blood red in the darkness.</p><p>“What did Kodlak do to you?” she whispered.</p><p>“<em> Do not </em>accuse Kodlak.”</p><p>“Since you’ve joined the Circle, you’ve changed. I don’t understand…you were always a fierce warrior but you were never like the rest of them. Never like <em> this </em> . ” His leather gloves moaned under his tightening fists. “ <em> Cold </em> ...We’ve always told each other everything...But you’ve been hiding something.” In the months since Vilkas had joined the Inner Circle of Jorrvaskr, he’d become secretive and fatalistic, snapping at the smallest trifles and electing to spend large amounts of time reading alone about subjects he wouldn’t disclose. She’d tried to question him but he always grew dismissive or outright silent. “Why can’t you confide in me?” Even now, he seemed withdrawn. He closed his eyes, drawing deep, steady breaths. He looked focused, as though he was attempting meditation. <em> It’s like I’m not even here. He doesn’t even take me seriously anymore. </em> “What’s wrong with you?!” she cried and finally closed the space between them, ramming her fist into his chest. “Say something!”</p><p>“DAMNIT, ELLE!” </p><p>He darted forward so quickly his chest slammed against her, sending her stumbling back onto the hard ground. She stared up in horror as the skin of his face <em> yanked </em> and <em> stretched </em> and <em> ripped </em>over thick onyx fur. His bones cracked apart, and his shadowy figure twisted larger into something unrecognizable. Wild eyes glowed like branding irons in the night, the moonlight reflecting off the shine of huge, grizzly fangs.</p><p>“Y-your face….” It was all she could muster as her trembling hands began to push her back from the sight. </p><p>“<em> RUN </em>!” </p><p>His agonized scream sent a jolt of fear through her body and she scrambled to her feet to sprint away. She’d grown up hunting and playing in these woods but now she felt as though she’d never seen them in her life, panting for air as her legs threw her blindly through the forest. Stray branches and thistles swiped shallow cuts at her bare arms that she hardly acknowledged in her haste. The chilling sound of the wolf’s howl echoed from behind her, like the deathly call of a banshee, and her heart skipped a beat. She threw a wild glance over her shoulder to scan for him, but her feet fled so quickly they took her right off the edge of a steep hill concealed by darkness. Instincts blared at Ma’assan to cast a protective spell to cushion the fall, but she was helpless to the memory: Elle’s body flew down the drop to smash into a tree jutting from the hillside. The horrible <em> smack </em> and <em> crunch </em>cracked the silence of the forest. She would have screamed, but her lungs wouldn’t expand. Ma’assan found herself trapped sharing the emotional pain of the event; the physical pain, thank Gods, was limited to what one would usually feel in a violent nightmare - helpless discomfort and strained breaths.</p><p>Elle struggled to breathe as her aching body slid from the tree, tumbling down the rest of the hill to land on her stomach. When she finally found stable ground she tried to get to her feet, but searing pain exploded in every muscle at the slightest movement. She couldn’t be sure how many bones she’d broken in the fall, all of them were aflame. She clutched at the grass and whimpered, watching the blackness beyond the trees and wishing she could call for her love, but tried to stay silent.</p><p>The violent echo of panting and snarling drew nearer.</p><p>“<em> Please…Vilkas </em>...”</p><p>She closed her eyes, and the wolf descended.</p><p>Blood splattered the grass and trees around them as razor sharp teeth brutalized soft flesh, and the woods echoed with blood curdling screams. Ma’assan watched, trapped in Elle’s doomed body, as her lover’s beast tore his former mate apart in a bloodthirsty frenzy. Though it was only a few short moments, it felt like it lasted forever. She wasn’t even sure when Vilkas transformed back into his mortal form. He was nude, covered in gore with wild shock painting his bloody face, as though he’d just come upon this horrible scene as a hapless bystander. Ma’assan could taste the iron in Elle’s blood as her consciousness slipped away. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she died in a memory, and the thought began to sow seeds of panic into the dreamer’s mind. </p><p>Vilkas came to clutch her in his arms, sobbing in agony. The bright moon loomed above like a celestial halo over this penitent angel of death. All was silent now in stark contrast to the chaotic explosion of screaming and thrashing that’d filled the clearing only moments before. </p><p>“V-Vilkas… what have you done?” she whispered through bloodied lips. Her body was limp. There was nothing to do now but wait. Flashes of her mother, father, and Vilkas played over in her mind. The young wolf cradled her and watched as she faded, his muffled pleas echoing in the abyss of her mind before silence joined the dark.</p><hr/><p>Ma’assan sucked in a sharp gasp, jolting awake into the late afternoon sunlight. She lay in the grass at the base of a steep hill beside Vilkas, his face just as pained as it was in the dream. He came closer, clearly concerned after she’d appeared and awoken so wildly, but she scrambled away. He withdrew in shame. Her chest heaved as she struggled to return from the vivid helplessness of the nightmare and remember herself. </p><p>“You saw it…” Vilkas slumped back and hung his head low, unable to keep her gaze.</p><p>“You think,” she took a slow, measured breath, “that would happen...to <em> me?” </em>She slowly brought herself to stand and he mirrored her.</p><p>“The blood rules me. Everytime I think I have control, it slips away! What if we have a fight? What if you’re unarmed? What if I simply lose control in my sleep beside you?! The longer we’re together, the higher the chance I can hurt you. <em> Kill </em>you!” </p><p>“Kill <em> me?!”  </em></p><p>The Dragonborn’s <em> thu’um </em>sent Vilkas flying back as she shouted. He slammed to the ground with a thud, groaning as he tried to rise.</p><p>“How little faith you must have in me if you truly believe that!” She yelled out from across the clearing as he came to stand at the edge of the wood. Her heavy footsteps began to carry her to him. “You think a wolf can kill a dragon?!”</p><p>Her whirlwind sprint shot her forward like an arrow and she slammed her palm into his chest, the force sending him flying back again. The wind ripped from his lungs before he could hit the ground, and he struggled harder to bring himself up this time.</p><p><em> “I urge you to try,” </em>she growled as she advanced. </p><p>“I made a pact,” he huffed as he pushed himself to his knees, “with Farkas..and Kodlak… No transformations…no giving in..not anymore.” He struggled through his words, his voice warped and deeper than usual. Ma’assan relented for a moment, her fists tightening at her sides. He didn’t understand, not yet. He didn’t trust himself or her, and he wouldn’t until she proved he could. “<em> I’m warning you, </em> ” the beast threatened, “ <em> don’t.” </em> </p><p>Her final shout boomed forward. Vilkas’ body flew back to smash into a tree, slamming against the trunk and ripping through the transformation faster than she’d ever seen it happen before. The massive black wolf snarled and bared his teeth, digging his claws into the ground before pushing off and rushing for her. Her hands raised up beside her focused expression.</p><p>
  <em> “Kaan…Drem…Ov…”  </em>
</p><p>Though her voice was no more than a whisper, the vibrating <em> thu’um </em> thrummed over the wolf with enough force to bring him to heel. His pupils dilated and he whined softly, like a frightened pup. </p><p>“It’s alright, you’re safe,” she said.</p><p>One raised hand reached out to him in invitation, and he inched closer to draft a few cautionary whiffs. He settled before her on his knees, and the small elf brought the once towering figure into her arms to stroke at his soft fur. His large claws swallowed her up as they wrapped around her, pulling her close to bury his snout into her chest. </p><p>“Listen to me. I am not afraid of you, because you cannot hurt me. I am not helpless, and I need you to trust in my strength. I know it was wrong to push you, but I need you to believe me. I am <em> so sorry </em> for what happened, but it was years ago, and it was an accident. Things are different now. You’re different.” Her hands smoothed over the soft fur of his face. “You will stop punishing yourself. You will seek your own forgiveness. And you will do it by my side.”</p><p>The wolf gazed up at her and slowly melted away to reveal her fragile Vilkas. With a heavy sigh, she fell to her knees before him, and they embraced. He clenched her tightly and tried to hide his tears in the crook of her neck.</p><p>“I’m here, you’re safe, Vilkas.” She kissed tenderly at the muscles of his bare shoulder and ran her fingers through his hair. “You’re safe with me.” </p><p>His nude body relaxed against her, slowly guiding them down to the grass to lay together. The setting sun rested a blanket of warmth over the couple, locked in a tight embrace. His slow, deep breaths rolled over her cheeks and his glassy eyes took the time to study every line of her face. She watched as soft, quiet teardrops fell every now and then from his focused grey pools. All had finally been revealed and they were still here, together. She relaxed in the relief of this moment and wondered how long he would hold her like this. They were pressed so tightly, she was sure he meant to mend them into one. She hoped he would. </p><hr/><p>Ma’assan woke to the darkness of night in the forest, eyes opening on the sight of that fateful hillside. She shuddered at the fresh memory, turning to sit up and look for Vilkas. He was standing nearby, tying trousers he’d recently adorned to his narrow hips. Unfortunately, he’d already put a tunic and vest on. She’d hoped to distract herself with the feast that was his naked body. He turned, though, and flashed a grin that made her stomach tighten before pulling taut the lace of his pants. Good, he was feeling better. She was sure he’d be characteristically grim until they left the woods. He leaned down and picked up a few pieces of stray ripped clothing, collecting them for the pile he’d made beside her. His transformation had exploded through him so quickly his clothes had shredded to bits, and it seemed he was taking care to clean up the debris from the forest floor.</p><p>“Is that why Eorlund is always forging and reforging the Circle’s armor?” She grinned and pointed her nose to the pile of tattered clothing. “Little wolfie whoopsies?” </p><p>Vilkas chuckled and walked over to her. “Yes, well…I’ve had the blood for so long, I <em> usually </em> know when the change will be unavoidable.” He lent his hand to help her up. When she took it his grip closed finger by finger around her hand before helping her to rise, his intense gaze locking hers in. “You, as always, are completely unpredictable. I wasn’t expecting to be <em> provoked </em>.” He spoke so closely, his hot breath feathered against her face. She pressed their hips together, offering her own grin.</p><p>“Mm, weren’t expecting to receive such a thrashing, were you?” His warm chuckle returned.</p><p>“Yes, oh mighty Ma’assan.” He ran a hand up her neck and into her hair, cradling her jaw in his large hand before leaning down to speak against her lips. “The wolf yields to the dragon.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Obsidian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ma’assan and Vilkas return to Breezehome after a harrowing experience. They share an intimate and magical bath before bed.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>NSFW - it is dialogue heavy though.</p><p>It’s been a while since I’ve posted a chapter, life has been a bit more busy. I have the story laid out, the rest will come soon ^.^</p><p>Also! Many of the previous chapters have been edited or tweaked a bit. If some of the dialogue here is confusing, it’s because it’s referring to something that was added to a previous chapter. Sorry! It’s a work in progress!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ma’assan was glad to be home when she and Vilkas finally returned. Lydia had already gone to bed and it seemed Inigo wasn’t home, the khajit likely enjoying some time, and sweets, at the Bannered Mare. Vilkas stayed close the whole way back from the woods. He held her hand, fingers intertwining, unlacing every now and again to drift over her palm before sliding back into place. Even as she entered her room he was her shadow. The two walked in step with one another until she leaned down to open her storage chest and he moved to the bedside, discarding his tunic and shoes. She carefully returned Vaermina’s Torpor, before closing the chest and allowing her eyes to wander over the taut muscles of the man making himself comfortable in her quarters. The cold facade she’d seen for so many months was distant now: The stern wrinkle above his brow was a phantom of its usual self, and his lips, most often set in a hard line, had softened and plumped to a barely visible smile that begged to be kissed. He moved in the space like it was his own, and warmth bloomed in her heart as she realized it was. It was theirs now, together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He came to her, and she stood to meet him, his deft hands beginning to undo the latches and ties to her light armor. Pieces were stripped one by one until she was left in her tunic and pants, his fingers carefully rolling up the fabric of the former. She raised her arms and he dragged her shirt up over her head, grazing his fingers along her naked skin all the way to her fingertips before taking the time to neatly fold her things and place them on the dresser. Every second his hands were absent from her body felt like a loss, but they would soon return, gliding over her sides and down to her ass. He gripped her so tightly she lifted off her feet, crushing their hips together and burying his face in her neck to release a menacing rumble contrasted by tender kisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the delicious treatment, she couldn’t help but think of the next important thing on the agenda: The cure. Kodlak’s mission could yield the answer to Vilkas’ prayers. No more fear, no more nightmares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have to leave again soon,” she whispered. His hands raised to the small of her back, letting her slide back down to her tip-toes. Her neck continued to receive a gentle peppering of affection in between words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go with you…Before, you said I would lose my temper. I won’t. Not with you by my side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright. Inigo and I can handle it, and I’ll return to you as soon as I can.” She didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to leave him, but she couldn’t have him joining this expedition either. Kodlak had called upon her alone to confide in with this, rather than calling a circle meeting as was usual. She was unsure if it was entirely confidential, but it seemed best to keep it that way for now. Truly, she was overjoyed at the opportunity to surprise Vilkas with such a momentous gift. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You steal my heart then plan to make off with it? How am I to go on living?” The arms around her squeezed tighter and her toes lifted from the floor again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it truly stealing if you wanted me to take it? Besides, you’re no stranger to heartlessness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you wish to see me suffer for my cruelty. Is that why you deny me?” He let her down to the floor, and before she could offer an answer, he continued. “Where has Kodlak sent you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a cave near Falkreath. He’s tasked me with retrieving special ingredients that can only be found there.”</span>
</p><p>“Ingredients for?”</p><p>
  <span>“You should ask him your questions. If he’s not already told you himself, it’s not my place to speak for the Harbinger. Trust that you’ll know all of the details soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t bear to be left in suspense, and now I’m to be trapped in it.” He smirked as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. His skin was like fire. “You’re lucky I’m a slave to you.” He stole the air between them, greedy for her scent. The hard press of his naked, swelling chest against hers sent chills down her spine, and she wished he’d removed her breast band.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would never wish your suffering,” she whispered. “Only peace...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His warm hand cradled her jaw, drawing her face up to allow him slow, adoring kisses across her lips. With every breath she took in the clean, woody smell of him. The scent coated her lungs with sweetness and she found herself thieving for air just as he’d been; stealing deep breaths to be held and cherished before their release. His soft, hot tongue grazed over her bottom lip, seeking entry, and instigating a lightning storm in her abdomen. She gave him what he desired. Her tongue met his, rolling softly over its tip. His low moan vibrated on her lips, forcing a wet swell of heat to blossom between her legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a bath with me,” she cooed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vilkas peeked over his shoulder to the tub, turning back with a crooked grin. The mage extended her hand and, slowly, an ethereal light began to shimmer at the top of the empty bath. The light was like a blanket over water, a translucent phantom of soft ebbing; but as Ma’assan separated from Vilkas and moved closer, guiding her fingers all the while through short flowing gestures, the twinkling impression of water began to solidify. The transparent glow faded entirely and the large basin rippled with fresh water. Her hand lowered beside the tub to one of the nearby bottles, and the relaxing smell of nightshade filled the air as she set free a few drops of the fragrant oil. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your magic never ceases to impress.” Vilkas came to stand just behind her, reaching past to dip his fingers in the cool liquid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is simple. I could teach you,” she said, with something of a mischievous grin. Her offer was met with a hearty laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m no mage.” His hands slid smoothly from her back to her ribcage and her breast band suddenly came undone, dropping to her feet. She hardly noticed he’d begun to undo it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really?” His tender touch replaced the binding, kneading and massaging with care. She sighed and leaned back against his chest as tingling warmth began to run its hands all over her. She gripped the edge of the tub with one hand while the other stretched out to hover over the water’s surface, soft, fiery light emanating from the tips of her slender fingers. “You’ve never thought about trying? Never thought about the rush of holding fire in your hands?” Steam began to swirl off the surface of the pool and the various candles surrounding the edge blossomed with flame. The light faded from her hand as she withdrew it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m holding fire right now,” he replied into the nape of her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The warm drag of his hands descended down her sides as he came to kneel behind her, tugging her trousers and smalls down to the floor and helping her to step out of them. She turned around and their eyes met, and it suddenly occurred to her that they were the only two people in the world. His fingertips followed a light trail up her hips as he came to rise, holding her in an intense gaze. There was a special flickering in his eyes, like the one she’d seen when they made love that first morning; burning adoration. Something made him break his spell, though, and his attention drew to the newest scar on her shoulder, his fingertips tracing over the skin there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have this…before the Reach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Argis flashed into her mind. She pulled back, sitting on the tub’s edge and lifting both legs over to dip into the steaming water. He dropped his pants and followed, moving to sit behind her once she’d gotten settled in the pool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A poison arrow from the Silver Hand. A product of my recklessness.” She stared down at the small, healed stretch of skin. The smile swept back over her face and she peered at him from over her shoulder.  “...And so </span>
  <em>
    <span>quickly</span>
  </em>
  <span> healed with restoration magic. I could teach you to heal yourself in battle, it could save your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no magic and I’ve not died so far.” His thumb ran gently over the scar on her back where the arrow made its exit. “...I’m glad you came back safe. You would never have left if it wasn’t for my cruelty…I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You thought you were protecting me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are no excuses. Forgive me, but do not absolve me. I’m guilty of many things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I will not absolve you. You will atone.” Though she couldn’t see him, she could feel the grin return to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will…and I think I’ll start </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vilkas’ hands weaved into her hair, strong fingers rolling over her sensitive scalp. She slipped a moan and melted into him. One of his hands disappeared briefly, returning to work something silky into her locks. The fresh scent of cleansing oils wrapped sweetly around her senses, cradling her as warmly as he was. His hands were careful and thorough, and the undulating sensations inspired goosebumps along the skin of her arms and neck. All troubles ebbed away beneath his adoring fingers, and all that was left was this relaxing moment. But it would only be a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the calm and quiet, a thought came to her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Elle. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She couldn’t help but feel she’d somehow violated her memory. How would she feel if she knew she’d share her mind and body with her companion’s new lover during the moments that would be her last? What would she say? Ma’assan wished she could’ve told her she wasn’t alone in the end, but the dream was just that, a dream. A memory, an echo, unchangeable for better or worse. The intensity of the experience lingered, and would for some time. There were still questions and curiosities, but she worried about pressing Vilkas on the subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something’s on your mind…” His deep voice rumbled against her back. “Speak freely. I’ll hide nothing from you…not anymore.” With his words she released a bit of tension in her body that she hadn’t realized she’d developed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did Aela think she disappeared?” she near-whispered. The fingers at her crown paused, and there was quiet. He took in a large breath that lifted her like an ocean wave before his hands resumed their careful work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Farkas and Kodlak…helped me. They..</span>
  <em>
    <span>took care</span>
  </em>
  <span> of things. They’re the only ones who know. I wanted to turn myself in, but they wouldn’t allow it. They thought I could do more good as a free man than rotting away for a ‘mistake’. Atonement..as you said. We never spoke of it again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All she had was her mother and father, but they met their end on a hunt, just a year before-” His fingers swirled slow mindless circles on her scalp. “When she </span>
  <em>
    <span>disappeared,</span>
  </em>
  <span> everyone gave me their sympathies. Me..</span>
  <em>
    <span>her killer. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I deserved nothing but punishment…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Vilkas. I felt how much she loved you.” She sat up, turned to face him and saw his eyes flutter, the usually clear grey slits now pink and glassy. “We can’t change the past, but we can decide how it changes us. You’ve been your own judge and executioner. Perhaps it’s time you become your rehabilitator.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it sound simple.” A smile pressed the corner of his mouth. “I want to be...” He leaned forward to rest a gentle kiss on her cheek, then turned her around, laying her back against his chest before pouring warm handfuls of water over her head. “Well, we’ve laid </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> soul bare, but what of you, my dragon? I want to know you. I know you’re from the Summerset Isles, but I don’t know which one or why you left. How does an Altmer find herself in Skyrim, joining the Companions?” Though pleasant, scented waters rolled over her in an attempt to wash her worries away with the forest dirt, the question reeled tight the tension in her body.</span>
</p><p>“You’ve asked me that before.”</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, I have once. You didn’t trust me then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nor you me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried not to think of her past, and certainly didn’t share it with anyone. Even Inigo knew next to nothing about her life before their meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall I ask something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s alright. I trust you now.” She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “I wanted…community. Family, maybe..” She pressed a false smile to her lips and continued, “You may have noticed I’m not as tall as other Altmer. Just under average even amongst Nords, and at least a head shorter than the shortest elf on the Isles. It may seem a simple thing to you, but it defined my life there. My mother and father assured me I was a late bloomer. Surely, by my thirteenth year, I would sprout to a regal height like the both of them. But, when the year arrived, I was still shorter than most of my peers. It’s not that being of perfectly acceptable height was entirely unusual, there were others my size growing up, even one or two smaller than me...We all had until our thirteenth year...” The struggling smile faded. “There’s a reason all Altmer look near-the same. Act near-the same. There are rules to be followed. Rules against flaws of the mind, body, and spirit. Breaking these rules is </span>
  <em>
    <span>unacceptable</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the Dominion...I would’ve been killed if it weren’t for my parents…They protected me. Many of my friends vanished that year, unable to outgrow their various </span>
  <em>
    <span>flaws</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I was the only one left. The only </span>
  <em>
    <span>flawed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Altmer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Dominion </span>
  <em>
    <span>murders </span>
  </em>
  <span>their own children? Over something as trivial as height?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Among other things. Perfection and purification of all High Elves is of the utmost importance to the Thalmor…Suffice it to say, I was not very popular there after escaping my dark fate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your parents, they sent you away?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, actually. They fought for me. I had no siblings and they had high hopes for my future. But it did become..</span>
  <em>
    <span>problematic</span>
  </em>
  <span> for me to continue attending lessons with the ‘normal’ children. My parents took on my teachings, which I’m thankful for. Their lessons have saved my life on more than a few occasions.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were brave…fighting the Thalmor - capable of mass </span>
  <em>
    <span>filicide</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He grimaced and tightened his arms around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cleverness and ego over bravery, I think. Still, they loved me and I loved them…but that </span>
  <em>
    <span>place</span>
  </em>
  <span>...In the last few years I was there, I couldn’t leave our property anymore. Just the sight of me at the market would cause people to-” She sighed. “I left the Isles as soon as I was old enough to go off on my own.” Ma’assan looked to the corner of the room near the side of the bed. Her large golden bow rested on its rack, humming softly with old magics. “My mother gave me her bow before I left. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dinan’shiral</span>
  </em>
  <span>…the journey to the end.” The elf’s voice dropped low and smooth, with a posh edge. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>This bow has sent many of our enemies to Oblivion. Do not let its bloodlust go unsated, my arrow,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she recited in her mother’s voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My arrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.” She nodded. “My name in the common tongue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ma’assan.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He dragged the word out, as if trying it for the first time. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>…I didn’t think anyone still spoke old Aldmeri.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My parents are…</span>
  <em>
    <span>fond</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the old ways.” She sunk a bit deeper into the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you see them last?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Many years ago, now. Ten…maybe more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must miss them. Do you think you’ll see them again?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Will I? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She dredged her mind for the last time she had. Tried to remember the soft lines of her mother’s glowing, golden face as they said goodbye at the docks the day she’d left, but it was so far away she could hardly recall. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mother</span>
  </em>
  <span>: Wavy silver hair, like her own, but much longer. She was tall, even for an Altmer, and the same height as her father. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Father</span>
  </em>
  <span>: Pale, piercing purple eyes, like her own, but decades wiser. Though they were the same height, she seemed to tower, while he always loomed. But, </span>
  <em>
    <span>their faces</span>
  </em>
  <span>...Elves lived decades longer than humans, and still, after only ten or so years, she could hardly remember her parent’s faces. They were cloudy in her memory, like a dream just after waking. There was no doubt that if she saw them she would know them…but she wondered how long it would be until that time came. Maybe it never would. She couldn’t be sure if she wanted it to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s give the past a rest for tonight,” he said, breaking the silence. “I’ve a beautiful elf beneath my fingertips and I intend for her to enjoy herself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I enjoy every moment I spend with you.” She smiled and let go a soft sigh, thankful he shelved the subject. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands slid over her skin like silk with the help of the nightshade oils, softening their bodies against each other. She could feel the rhythm of his strong heartbeat just beneath the crown of her head. His breathing was deep and steady, and she enjoyed the slow rise and fall that carried her with it. Happiness hummed from her lips as his fingertips grazed over her stomach, then her ribs. He traced the curve beneath her breasts, his own hums beginning to sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you left for the Reach, you took everything with you. Even the air. You’ve only just returned…how will I breathe if you leave now? How will I sleep?” He pulled her higher, sliding her up to nestle his chin to her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be hardly one night, I’m sure. Trust that I will miss you just as much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This intimacy was so appreciated after the last few weeks. The last few months, even. When she first met Vilkas he was immediately skeptical of her, but there was a spark in his icy eyes that drew her to him. He was also stoically handsome and grim, a Nordic quality she’d quickly found charming in her first years on the continent. When Kodlak tasked him with testing her strength, he’d proved a more than worthy opponent, but ultimately fell to her sword - and she saw it. The spark. Something more than surprise or a warrior’s newfound respect. It lit her up inside, starting fires in her mind and body. Trying to know and grow close to him had been a challenge that, at times, she wasn’t sure why she was undertaking…but this intimacy. Open, honest closeness, safe secrets, unbreakable loyalty, mutual adoration, </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasure</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She had these things in him now, and she would offer what she could in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, she sat up. The water sloshed around her, both it and Vilkas disturbed by her jolt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve just thought of something! I wonder if it will work…” She lifted her hand from the water, pointing two fingers to a small black box on her nightstand and curling them in a ‘come here’ motion. The box obeyed, hovering over to the sorceress and settling in her palm. “I’d meant to use these with Inigo, but he could never activate them.” She turned to him and opened the box to reveal matching smooth obsidian rings, one big and one small. Each was engraved with a short Aldmeri incantation around the inner curve and hummed dimly with warm energy. The engraving seemed to reflect a beautiful purple light when the rings were shifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>They’re enchanted</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” He wasn’t impressed. “Mara preserve me. I have no magic, Ma’assan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m an Altmer. Magic runs through my veins. I feel where there is energy and where there is not, and I can feel yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hips bucked up against hers, grinding his hard length between her spread legs. Goosebumps flashed over her skin, she drew a gasp that turned into a moan, and she nearly dropped the box but he caught her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure that’s what you’re feeling.” He grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious!” She sucked her bottom lip in and bit it hard before raising her hips to escape the torturous arousal. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve told you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, magic is about feeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m certainly feeli-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Focused </span>
  </em>
  <span>feeling. Allowing yourself to be in the chaos, and finding the paths running through it.” Her hand pressed over his heart. She focused her energy to her palm, inviting his magic out into the open. Heat flared from within his chest, playful flames licking at her hand through his skin. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>There. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Do you not feel it? Have you not </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> felt it? Even before the blood, you felt that </span>
  <em>
    <span>energy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I know you did. It’s why you struggle more than anyone else with your beast. This fire. This unattended fire inside you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...How do you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’ve felt it too. You’re born with magic, it’s always been there. I was taught from a young age and given the tools to understand my fire, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>use it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The blood doesn’t taunt me as it does you because my magic doesn’t taunt me. You can still be given those tools.” As she spoke, he studied the ripples in the water between them with great focus. “I know you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>wary </span>
  </em>
  <span>of magic, but you aren’t afraid or angry at it like other Nords. Why do you hesitate? What’s stopping you?” He exhaled audibly and smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it confounds a High Elven sorceress why anyone would hesitate to play with fire...Honestly, I suppose...I was just never taught. How was I to know this </span>
  <em>
    <span>energy</span>
  </em>
  <span> was more than childish feelings, or simply an overt sensitivity to living this life? Nothing strange or magical ever happened. I’ve always just been..</span>
  <em>
    <span>heightened. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I grew up in Jorrvaskr with fighters. When Kodlak noticed I was quick to anger he gave me a sword and shield and trained me as a proper warrior. I learned to use my fire, in </span>
  <em>
    <span>honorable</span>
  </em>
  <span> combat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mages are honorable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mages are wily and underhanded.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve not known the right mages. Many are honorable, some plague the name with cunning and deceit. Just as warriors can shun honor in favor of power and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>joys </span>
  </em>
  <span>of violence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose neither are better than the other.”</span>
</p><p><span>“Just different. And, if you can trust </span><em><span>this</span></em><span> wily, underhanded mage, I can</span> <span>teach you,” she said with a soft smile. </span></p><p>
  <span>“I trust you with my life.” He raised a hand from the water to caress the smooth hollow of her cheek. Her smile widened and she took the small ring from the box, slipping it on the middle finger of her left hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then put this on and close your eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do they do?” He took the other ring, sliding it onto his middle finger and closing his eyes as instructed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ll help when we’re away from each other.” She moved from atop him to sit on the opposite side of the bath, and sent the box back to its place on the nightstand. She drew a deep breath to center herself, then closed her eyes. “Now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>relax. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Deep breaths. Bring your focus to your heart… feel the fluttering there. It’s not just your beast within you, there’s more. It shimmers, like light reflected on water… Do you see it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This feels ridiculous,” Vilkas answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put your head back,” she said patiently. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Deep breaths...Focus</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a short stretch of silence…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... I see something,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help it grow. Give it life with every breath… What do you feel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Warm,” he gave a soft moan. “... Tingly.” She heard the smile in his voice, its infectious tone pressing her own lips wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else?” she cooed. Though Ma’assan stayed on the opposite side of the tub, she felt his presence grow closer and closer until it mended with her own. Once she felt the connection tether, her hand slid deftly between her legs to stimulate herself with a bit of added magical heat. Pleasure ebbed through her wiggling hips and she heard a sharp hiss from across the bath. Her eyes finally opened, but only slightly. Vilkas sat back with his nose pointed to the ceiling, slow trickles of water and sweat traveling down his neck to his slowly rising chest - still diligently focused on deep breathing. His chest was opened wide, broad shoulders relaxed back with hands gripping the wooden edges. The elf bit tightly onto her lip again, stifling her own sounds to focus on his, before running her fingers over her clit. He squeezed tightly and a moan broke from him, eyes flashing open to look at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this?” he panted softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Connection. These rings.. connecting us through our magicka.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Our </span>
  </em>
  <span>magicka?” She could feel his surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Can’t you feel it?” she asked. His emotional and physical feelings echoed within her and she was sure hers did in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t.. just you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Without your magicka, there would be nothing. It only works with intention and focus, and when your focus has grown the rings’ connection should grow strong enough to speak through.” She focused, trying for a moment to communicate clearly with him telepathically. He only crinkled his brow in response and she gave a soft laugh. “At the moment it seems to be limited to </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But, with practice and study your magic could be powerful,” she said, hoping to encourage him along the path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Power </span>
  </em>
  <span>is not what I’m hungry for, but the chance to whisper filthy nothings into your mind is quite motivating,” he growled. The water sloshed once more, Vilkas disturbing the still surface this time. He was quickly upon her, arms clasped about her waist with his chest pressed to her own. His hot breath rolled across her face, inches above her. He paused, though, and his brow crinkled again. “You planned to use these with Inigo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For communication!” she laughed. “To speak to each other in emergencies or if we’d gotten separated. They never worked.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well they’re working well now,” he laughed with her before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No matter where we are, I’ll be with you. To help you feel, to breathe, to sleep. To bring you peace of mind,” she said softly against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To bring </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span> peace of mind,” he returned. His hands fell to grip her thighs, wrapping them around his waist before standing out of the water. Cascading water rushed off their entwined forms as he stepped over the edge and onto the hardwood with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve hardly washed,” she whispered against his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re clean, woman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was surprisingly adept at navigating her room blindly. She noted, between passionate kisses, that he grabbed the drying cloths, tossed them on the bed, and lowered her down onto them gracefully, all while entirely focused on her. The air cooled her damp skin, but cold could not overtake her. Vilkas’ body was defiantly hot, regardless of clothing or weather, and right now it was pressed flush to her own. As he thrust against her, pushing her down into the bed, they both moaned loudly and felt a wave of pleasure roll from their center, outwards. The rings’ connection remained tethered and seemed to amplify their experience: Feeling both themselves and their partner’s bliss. His twitching cock slid along the outside of her wet folds, both of them trembling in the other’s arms at the over sensitive pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your legs are shaking,” he whispered, the words nearly groans. Her firm thighs vibrated softly against his rolling hips, the elf nearly panting at just this slow, grinding sensation. “I’m not inside of you yet,” he informed her with a smile. Large arms encased her as he wrapped them underneath her arms and held his forehead to hers. His cock dragged down and lined up to her entrance, the tip pressing softly in. Her toes curled tightly and she hoped the impending bliss wouldn’t make her lose her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their loud cries erupted through Ma’assan’s room and she was too enraptured to be bothered casting a muffling spell. Their shared pleasure as he buried himself inside of her nearly made them both immediately orgasm. She’d never felt something like this before, and she could feel he hadn’t either. Their bodies and minds buzzed together as they lay locked there, Vilkas seemingly unable to move his hips. When he dragged back to pull out, her greedy slickness sucked him back in. Both groaned out in wanton abandon as he established a steady pace, growling and squeezing tightly onto her. The sound was similar to the one she’d heard him make when he fought his transformation, and she knew he desperately fought his climax. The overwhelming satisfaction of this shared feeling was nirvana; she wanted it to last forever too. But her own orgasm undulated closer with intense speed, squeezing and flexing against his rhythm. His hips began to stutter as she lost control, an explosion of sensation pounding through both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He buried himself in her neck, utterly silent and still with his cock pressed completely inside of her. She felt him pulsate and twitch, flooding her insides with his hot seed, massaging her climaxing walls. The entire world stopped and she couldn’t breathe; she found she didn’t want or need to. They could hold each other like this, locked in time forever. Hours passed before she took a breath, or so it felt. Her lover fell to his side, her body rolling with his to lay face to face. They heaved against each other and though the moment hadn’t lasted long, the intensity of it tired her like a nightlong escapade. He huffed beside her, seemingly just as drained. The pillows had grown wet and cold beneath her splayed damp locks but she didn’t care. Her only thought concerned the heavy words that ached at the tip of her tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not yet…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>All other thoughts and worries had long since vacated, for good this time. Banished, to be dealt with another day. Deep, soft breaths began to sound from the Nord and she opened her eyes to look at him. For the first time, he’d fallen asleep before she had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you…” she whispered quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warmth and safety blanketed her chest before sleep took her as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I love Dragon Age’s extensive Elven language and have sampled from that to replace Aldmeri, since there isn’t much anyways.</p><p>Vilkas and Ma’assan finally getting to spend a quiet night together &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. I Can Feel It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ma’assan heads to Glenmoril Coven on Kodlak’s orders to take the witch’s heads and unlock the cure to lycanthropy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>SFW but canon-typical violence.</p><p>Lots of character development here and a pivotal character moment.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The morning after Vilkas and Ma’assan’s night together was quiet and calm. Though the beast blood kept her from truly restful sleep, she was more at peace than she had been in a long while. Ma’assan always greatly enjoyed being able to catch the sunrise; and was ever more grateful her companion shared her joy of both the dawnbreak and the silence during. Only the soft blows of their trotting horses and the fluttering melodies of birdsongs filled the cool air on the way to Glenmoril Coven. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“You have been exceptionally sprightly, friend,” the blue cat offered a wry smile before quietly continuing, “and you smell...</span>
  <em>
    <span>feral</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The archer crept deftly ahead towards her prize, shouldering Dinan’shiral to draw her large Daedric dagger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes..Vilkas and I talked last night,” Ma’assan replied happily. “I think we may be seeing him more often.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talked, right. That must be why Lydia was especially stoic and pale this morning - more so than usual. All that </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking </span>
  </em>
  <span>must have kept her up. If I am not mistaken, I returned home at the end of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>exciting conversation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ma’assan stifled a laugh. “I’ll try to be more mindful in the future. In my defense, the discussion was </span>
  <em>
    <span>riveting</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The snap of bone and cartilage filled only the small, muffled space around them as Ma’assan sliced the witch’s head from her shoulders. She’d cloaked Inigo and herself with a protection spell her mother had taught her ages ago. Under it, they were hidden and silent; concealed both physically and energetically. She’d used the trusted spell many times before and they’d both become so used to it, they were able to comfortably carry on conversations just feet from the enemy. Stealth was the smartest option, being that she’d sensed five </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>old witches and would face a hellish fight if they were alarmed too quickly or, Gods forbid, all at once. Thankfully, the cave was sprawling and the decrepit hags worked in separate pit rooms. This particular witch had been toiling over a large, bubbling cauldron before the elf’s arrow sang through her head. The stale air was rank with dark magic and the wet odor of death. Ma’assan, unfortunately, knew no spells to freshen the air with - but would remember to find a tome on the subject later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not worry, Sani. I am happy for you. Vilkas is a good man, a skilled fighter, and - if what I heard last night is any indication, a proficient conversationalist. You are happy, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lydia </span>
  </em>
  <span>is horrified. I support you.” He pulled open the small, black velvet sack Ma’assan had given him and held it out. She snapped the jutting wood of her arrow free from the severed head before dropping it into the sack. It looked to be large enough for only one trophy: Looks deceived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, friend. As such, might I suggest easing up on our dear housecarl before she </span>
  <em>
    <span>thrashes</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah! Let her try!” he jeered, snapping the drawstring on the bag tightly shut and following her down the next hall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so bad about poor Lydia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Poor Lydia? </span>
  </em>
  <span>You mean the empty suit of armor that stalks our home? And you left </span>
  <em>
    <span>poor </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vilkas alone with her. Why is he not here with us? Enjoying the fresh air and adventure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This hiss of another arrow, this time Inigo’s, silently piercing the skull of the lone witch at the far end of the room. It seemed she’d been studying scrolls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t tell him…I did, but not exactly. When Kodlak assigned me this mission he’d asked to see me alone. It felt right to keep it private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you not upset with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>for keeping secrets?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is different.” She clutched at the thin, matted clot that was the witch’s ashen hair and lined the blade to her throat. “I was upset with him for being cruel and denying me and himself. His secret-” She paused. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  <span> secret will be a pleasant, joyful surprise.” The horrible </span>
  <em>
    <span>squelch </span>
  </em>
  <span>of mud and thick blood belched beneath her boots as she carried the witch’s claimed head to Inigo and the sack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes...</span>
  <em>
    <span>joyful</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The head </span>
  <em>
    <span>plopped </span>
  </em>
  <span>into the bag and he grimaced, yanking it closed to avoid any more odors. “I must admit, I am not terribly surprised the blood is a curse. If it was a blessing, you would not smell like wet dog all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you say </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>you aren’t referring to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve</span>
  </em>
  <span> been pampered with bath oils,” countered the lady of the Summerset Isles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahhhh</span>
  </em>
  <span> yes, the refreshing scent of bloody werewolf rolling in violets.” Inigo swallowed a deep, swelling breath to aid his punchline, and immediately regretted the gesture when rancid cave stench assaulted his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> smell any better? Dirty, damp fur?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am earthy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are musty, and smell of stale sweets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Aghh</span>
  </em>
  <span>..no talk of sweets,” he groaned as they rounded a tight, jagged corner to another open room. A witch sat near a small fire, preparing meats and vegetables for cooking. Nothing sweet, though; and from the smell and nearby carnage, it was clear the meat was not from an animal. Both of their stomachs tightened considerably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong? Finally had your fill? Too many sugar benders at the Bannered Mare finally catching up with you? Belt growing too tight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be impossible. For sweet rolls, I am bottomless, and our busy schedule of </span>
  <em>
    <span>cave crawling </span>
  </em>
  <span>helps me maintain my striking figure,” he boasted, leaning forward into an honestly impressive lunge. “Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at me,” he said simply, holding the proud stance as he drew back two nocked arrows and gave a smooth release. “I cannot be stopped.” One pierced through the back of the witch’s head while the other passed straight through her neck and clanged the iron pot hanging above the fire. Ma’assan’s hand darted up, clenching into a fist and muffling the sound. Her eyes narrowed on Inigo. He continued. “I simply refuse to speak of sweets when there are none, </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> when I am in a smelly witch cave. Let us continue discussing why you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> left Vilkas behind with the ghost that haunts our home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apart from confidentiality, I just want to be sure the cure really works. If he was given that hope only to find it’s just another myth...I can’t let that happen to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I care about him. I will bar as much suffering from his life as I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ma’assan crossed her arms and watched as her companion made his way to the fire to recover his prize. “Clearly you’re looking for an answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have only noticed during our friendship that you shy away from one word in particular.” She stood silent, hip canted, waiting for him to continue. “You left town - </span>
  <em>
    <span>without me </span>
  </em>
  <span>- for two weeks after fighting with him. He left you extravagant gifts upon your return. Then, of course, there is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Inigo grunted as he yanked free the witch’s stubborn head, and took care to slice off the black viscera hanging from the neck. “You may not have spoken much about it, but you have been focused on him for months. You always go to find him, and whenever you do, I suddenly see more of your teeth than I ever have.” He returned to her, and plopped the head in the bag. “I have never seen you this way with anyone. I think it may be time to consider using that word, and I would listen to me if I were you. I am very clever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am well aware.” She smirked and yanked the drawstring shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Say it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re clever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Well..yes. But, no.” He chuckled. “Say </span>
  <em>
    <span>it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We both know how I feel. I don’t see why it’s necessary to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Saaay it,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Inigo sang in a low vibrato. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She paused, trying to fight the grin creeping over her lips. Useless. As useless as fighting Inigo on this. He was right anyhow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.” She broke into one of those toothy smiles he’d just mentioned, and tossed the bag back. He caught it at his chest, and hugged his arms around it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He loves you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ma’assan laughed and turned for the exit. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>would you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a catch, why would he not?” The Khajit strode ahead and began to lead the way back out of the pit room. “And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>built </span>
  </em>
  <span>you a bathtub.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grin glued to her mouth quickly began to ache her cheeks, but it was the fondest of pains. “Thank you, Inigo...for always being there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cat paused, turning over his shoulder to give her a warm nod. “Until the end, my friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And after that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They exited the narrow tunnel, returning to the large central room that led to the cave’s entrance. A few dead skeevers they’d dispatched on the way in had begun to stink worse than when they were alive, which was a feat. Ma’assan would be glad to leave this putrid cave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two left,” she said, “the other side of the cave.” She led the way, following the nauseating vibration of black magic to the final room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How old are these hags?” Inigo asked. “They have posed no challenge at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Centuries, likely. If we hadn’t come in quietly, we would have seen quite the challenge, I’m sure. Are you looking for one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They came to stand at the mouth of the tunnel leading into the last room. The witches worked side by side mending and preparing an altar. The wide, damp room was decorated with bushels of dead flowers and the rotting limbs of large animals; the smooth ceiling masterfully painted with the flaming visage of Hircine emerging from darkness. The sight of him stunted the rhythm of her heart for two beats. She could feel the wolf within her howl out to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Master.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She sucked in a deep breath, and lined up her shot alongside Inigo. Both archers focused for a beat before releasing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only one thud sounded as the witch struck by Ma’assan’s arrow hit the ground. The hag to her right, who had bent over to grab another bushel of dead mountain flowers and narrowly escaped death, whipped around in shock to see her murdered sister. A piercing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>agonizing </span>
  </em>
  <span>screech ripped out and both Ma’assan and Inigo sprang to reload. Before they could release, the hag threw the cloaking spell off of them with such force they nearly lost the ground beneath them,  stumbling further into the tunnel from which they came. Ma’assan kept her eyes locked on the witch and recognized her quick hand gestures. The enchantress reacted instinctively, throwing her bow down and jumping forward with hands and arms outstretched before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“GET BACK!” She yelled as she threw up a large ward before Inigo and herself. The shimmering blue wall of translucent energy was immediately slammed with a barrage of flames that roared like thunder against the protective barrier. Inigo jumped back, but only to begin rapidly drawing and loosing more arrows through the flames. The other side was obscured beyond a wall of hellfire, and the flames seemed to be growing more and more intense; licking around the edge of the ward, growing as if intending to swallow it and flood the tunnel with fires hot enough to melt flesh and bone to nothingness.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You beasts!”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the witch’s airy screech cried out, “I will send every last Companion to Oblivion! Your souls are Hircine’s now!!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sweat beaded and rolled down Ma’assan’s focused face as heat blared down upon her through the ward, her hands red and trembling to hold the barrier against the witch’s fiery vengeance. Arrows hissed over her shoulder at the source of the voice until, finally, an especially high pitched screech rang out and the flames ceased as suddenly as they’d begun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ma’assan dropped the ward with a huff and immediately prepared herself to take another blow, her fingers locking into a tight gesture. She remembered her father’s training: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bend to the enemy, so that you do not break. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The witch panted roughly. She’d been riddled with a handful of ebony arrows, quite a few more decorating the wall and ground around her. Ma’assan stood steady. Inigo readied himself to jump back again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flames exploded toward them, but this time the fire funneled wildly into Ma’assan’s hands. Force blew back the long silver tendrils of her hair. Searing pain welled tears in her violet eyes that trickled back to her hairline. She grit her teeth, and did not cry out. The witch screeched wickedly and pushed her magic to its limits. White hot runes began to brand the sorceress’ fingers, and creep up her hands and wrists. Her fingers stayed firmly locked in place. She grit her teeth harder and did not cry out. Again, without warning, the stream of fire ended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hag sagged back and let out a broken </span>
  <em>
    <span>wheeze</span>
  </em>
  <span>, likely from trying to breathe with the punctured lung Inigo’s most recent arrow had surely wounded. Defiant to die, she began to utter one last curse. Ma’assan cried out, breaking the gesture and casting out her hands; returning the wicked flames the witch had unleashed upon them and cleansing the room with a raging cyclone of fire. Twisted screams echoed down the tunnel as fire whirled through the pit room. The screaming lasted a long while. The fire lasted longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brittle flowers disintegrated to ash and chunks of burned meat lay disheveled across the ground by the time the flames subsided. Even the painting on the ceiling had blackened, Hircine now choked with smoke and scorch scars. The witch’s bodies lay mangled, charred black, all clothing and hair burned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?!” Inigo cried, darting to Ma’assan’s side and staring down at her burned, shaking hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine.” She nodded, forcing a smile to prove her condition. “You?” Her hands glowed with warm, twinkling light, accelerating the healing through all stages until the skin returned to normal - save for the faint whisper of rune shaped burn scars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, except you jinxed us!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her jaw nearly unhinged itself. “I did not! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>did!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> asked if I was looking for a challenge and we immediately found one!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only because </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> said they posed no challenge at all, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>are the one that </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well!” he growled, collecting Dinan’shiral from the ground and dusting it off. “That was her fault. She moved.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snatched her bow back, swung it over her shoulder, and shook her head before cracking another smile that wouldn’t be denied. She walked over to the blackened bodies. “Do you think their heads will still work if they’re medium rare?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” He bent down to begin slicing. “As long as they’re juicy and pink in the middle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know..this wasn’t all that bad until you said</span>
  <em>
    <span> juicy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” A wet, crunchy </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop </span>
  </em>
  <span>echoed in the room as Ma’assan pulled the witch’s crispy head from her shoulders. He watched as thick, dark blood plopped onto the dirty ground at her boots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes…</span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>have made this disgusting.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Vilkas paced in his room in Jorrvaskr, examining his hands and the obsidian ring Ma’assan had given him. Everyone else was upstairs in the mead hall enjoying drinks after a hearty dinner, but he had excused himself when he’d suddenly begun to feel the agony of heat creeping up his hands as though they’d been edged into the fire. His whole body erupted with a fever when he left the table, withdrew downstairs, and hurried down the hall to his quarters, breaking into a sweat as flames raged beneath the skin of his arms and chest. He’d rushed into his room, slammed the door shut and tore his armor off to examine the damage that’d been done, but there were no marks. Quickly enough, the pain subsided and he’d felt the breaking of a connection. The ring on his middle finger had given a subtle shimmer of purple light, so quick he’d almost missed it. He immediately thought of Ma’assan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Questions. A staggering amount of questions. His lack of knowledge concerning what’d happened - to him and to her - had thrown him into a momentary panic, but he’d quickly calmed himself with a few well practiced breaths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, he wandered back and forth in the small room, staring at the ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I felt her...I felt her pain. Was she calling for me? Did she want me to feel it? What’s happened to her? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a way to answer these questions. She’d taught him how. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Magic</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He could still barely believe he was capable, but the rings wouldn’t work if he wasn’t. He’d never used it on his own, never even thought about trying, but if he wanted to find her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> her, make sure she was safe...He stopped pacing, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths as he recalled her instructions and her soft, soothing voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Relax… Deep breaths… Focus… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Deep breaths...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Focus...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He summoned the energy to the surface, but the ebbing wave he’d felt when he was with her now crashed and roared. Her words called to him again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It may feel wild, like the panic of a caged bird…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But you can soothe it...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried. He breathed, bringing the energy to his center and focusing. In through this nose, out through his mouth, exhaling his fear and distraction. Taking the moment breath by breath. After a short time, he felt confident enough to extend his energy out to seek her. His confidence was misplaced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air ripped out of his lungs. He crashed to his knees, gasping for breath. What little air he could snatch was poisoned by the stench of burned bodies and wet, rotted meat. His soul felt a million miles away, and his body writhed for it. He clenched his heart with a trembling fist, and still, tried to feel her. To no avail. All he could feel was pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chaotic energy slammed back into him and he sucked in a desperate breath. Bracing his hands against the floor, heaving, he looked down again to the ring. Another soft wink of purple. Connection broken. She had not exaggerated, magic was chaos. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If </span>
  </em>
  <span>he intended to use it, he would definitely need her training. But, where was she? He hoped what he’d just experienced was the immaturity of his untrained magic, not Ma’assan in pain or struggling for air. The thought plunged his heart to the pit of his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he couldn’t find her this way, he would have to try something else.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Ahh, Vilkas. Come in, my boy. Pour yourself some ale.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Harbinger’s room was wide, warm, and inviting. Though the entire room was carved of cold, dark grey stone, it was the most welcoming place on Jorrvaskr’s grounds - in all of Whiterun, Vilkas would argue. A fire always blazed in the hearth at the far end, casting everything in a flickering glow, and Kodlak had taken care to decorate with warm colored furniture, rugs, blankets, and art. Deep red rugs laid across the stone, alongside a great bear skin with a dreadful burn near the tail - an old scar from his twin brother’s childhood clumsiness. Rich cherrywood and glass cases lined the walls, proudly displaying weapons and trophies from the mighty Harbinger’s glory days - some of which Vilkas had been given the honor of using. Soft, orange blankets that’d always reminded him of autumn draped across the edge of the bed, and over the backs of certain chairs - Vilkas could vividly remember a few of those blankets having been tossed over his back on nights when he’d woken screaming. Of all this external warmth, at its source was the room's inhabitant. The old white wolf, all soft smiles and sharp wit in his twilight years, but he’d always been full of both, really. He filled Jorrvaskr, and this room, with pleasant memories and a stable sense of calm. He kept a place safe from the darkness of the world, where one could always find a light. Vilkas could never have known when he entered how important this night would be, how much he would recount and recount and recount in his mind the evening he was about to endure; the evening when the light went out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped through the open door and came to stand near the small round table that Kodlak sat at nightly, often writing or reading. Despite the relaxing embrace of this room, Vilkas’ anxious heart slammed against his ribs and strained his breathing. He didn’t betray his nerves, wanting to remain casual. Wanting to keep his budding relationship to himself, for fear he might be told to end it. Shield-siblings were harshly discouraged from intimate relationships with each other for the sake of the guild and everyone in it. This counted doubly for members of the inner circle. Historically, things tended to get messy and violent when romance - and the end of it - became involved between warriors. But he didn’t have time for reprimands and warnings, he needed answers - one, specifically. His thumb pressed against the smooth edge of the obsidian ring. He would maintain their little secret, at least until the time was right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sent Ma’assan on a mission, an urgent one. Where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kodlak smiled. “Worried about her, are you?”</span>
</p><p><span>“</span><em><span>Yes</span></em><span>.” He fought the deep need</span> <span>to clench his fists, and stood calmly. “But, </span><em><span>mostly</span></em><span> curious what urgent business the Companions have that the entire Circle isn’t privy to. She spoke of a cave. Where?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Kodlak sat back in his chair and swallowed a swig of ale, still smiling. “I would think you to be more curious </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was sent there than </span>
  <em>
    <span>where</span>
  </em>
  <span> there is, or rather, where </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> is.” Vilkas swallowed. “How did you come to know about this mission?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw her this morning, when she left...I was in town..filling up on supplies,” he lied. He hadn’t even seen her this morning. She was gone when he woke, her scent still strong on the pillows. He laid for a long while in her smell. Suddenly, a pang of nervousness welled in his gut as he realized how strongly he must’ve smelled of Ma’assan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I see</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kodlak bowed his head in a deep, thoughtful nod, then sat back, and rested his silver beard in his hand. “You say she left only this morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hmm</span>
  </em>
  <span>...” He pulled at his beard with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> long, slow stroke. Vilkas’ stomach flipped with impatience. He waited. “Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> important must’ve kept her from leaving straight away after receiving my orders.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He knows. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Vilkas hoped trying not to blush would really help him not to. He pressed his thumb harder to the ring. He only needed the answer to one question. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Kodlak-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You spoke to her, did she tell you what held her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat swelled in his cheeks. “How am I to know? I’m not her keeper.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly, you don’t even know where she is now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I would if you told me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he growled. Kodlak didn’t react. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Harbinger, I’m serious.” Vilkas clenched his fists, helplessness and rage bubbling in his guts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve noticed you’ve been absent from our halls, and your own quarters, for the last two nights without telling anyone where you’ve been. Quite unlike you. Have you been tending to </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> important business as well?” Kodlak’s knowing eyes locked onto his. He was sure the old wolf was trying to read his mind - as he’d always been capable of doing - and his face flushed as he tried to shoo away thoughts of the last two nights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence between them...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kodlak busted with a hearty laugh, slamming a heavy hand on the table and kicking the chair nearest him out to Vilkas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, my boy!” He pushed an empty mug to the edge of the wood. “Have a drink! I could smell her on you before you walked in. The scent is so strong I was sure it was Ma’assan herself coming down the hall.” He chuckled. “I’ve always so enjoyed giving you and your brother a hard time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DAMNIT!” Vilkas boomed. “This is not the time! What if she needs help?! Where is she?!” He immediately regretted the outburst when the Harbinger’s soft expression darkened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sit</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he commanded. Vilkas reluctantly obliged. He sat in the chair opposite the Harbinger and bowed his head. “You forget yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry, master. I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am no one’s master, son. Raise your head.” Vilkas obliged once more. “I understand your worry. You’ve found someone you care for, and part of her life is venturing into dangerous unknowns far outside of your control. It’s frightening, but you must have faith. Has she not more than proven her valor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> that she was hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kodlak seemed to notice now that he’d been toying with the ring. Like Vilkas, he would likely immediately recognize it to be enchanted. He hoped his mentor wouldn't think less of him for using magic - ‘cheap trickery’ as he’d once called it. In the last few years he’d seemed to have grown more tolerant; he’d even smiled when he’d seen a few of Ma’assan’s fire charms. Certainly he would accept magic in Vilkas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your goal is to protect a warrior from pain?” Kodlak asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My goal is to protect </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> from pain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhat of a smile returned to his old lips. “Then perhaps we should confine her to the underforge. It’s the safest place I know, given we sand down those jagged cave rocks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You patronize me. I must know she’s alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>She will be fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Vilkas. What would she think of you doubting her capabilities this way?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A valid question. One he hadn’t thought of. Just yesterday, Ma’assan taught him his lesson on doubting her. She warned him of the wild nature of magic, and he was already well aware of its dangers. Tonight, he experienced something he couldn’t explain, and it frightened him, but he couldn’t allow such fear to take hold. He’d never seen her be anything other than victorious, no matter the injury - and her scars were numerous. There was no one he’d rather fight beside, save for the Harbinger himself. She was experienced, and he trusted that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I should know better. She was sure to correct me when I last made that mistake.” Vilkas watched the firelight dance atop the woven orange blanket draped over the side of Kodlak’s chair. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I told her</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he whispered. He felt the Harbinger’s eyes burn through him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>About that night</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he sighed. “Better than I’ve been in a long while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahhh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kodlak sighed in return and slumped comfortably into his chair. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> glad to hear that. It went well then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but…” He cleared his throat. Shame replaced fear. “I..lost control. I lost myself to emotion. I couldn’t stop it...The blood overtook me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A heavy sigh from Kodlak. Not of anger or disappointment, but exhaustion. “I understand, my boy. You’ve always had such passion, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wild</span>
  </em>
  <span> passion. Wild things such as that cannot be controlled, not in the way you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I have no control then what do I have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Acceptance. Accept what cannot be controlled. Forgo the struggle in suppressing it. Learn to live with it, learn to be who you are with it rather than fighting day in and day out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Accept</span>
  </em>
  <span> my beast?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, child, accept yourself, and your beast will lose its clutch over you. This remarkable woman’s certainly come along and accepted you, but you still manage to stay as grim as a draugr’s grave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I broke my vow</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I not only promised myself I wouldn’t give in to the blood, I gave my word to you and my brother. What kind of warrior am I if I can’t control my anger, my body, when provoked? What kind of man am I if I can’t keep my word?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An honorable warrior.” He straightened himself. “And a great man. You will overcome, and she will help you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vilkas leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. “Why are you allowing this? Encouraging it, even? When we found out something might’ve been between Aela and Skjor you wouldn’t even entertain it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kodlak chuckled. “Questions, always questions. Even when I’m on your side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m only curious what makes me and Ma’assan such an enthusiastic exception.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are my son,” he said simply. “I want nothing but your happiness and well-being. I like her, she’s good for you. You’re smiling again, the way you used to, and so - you and Ma’assan are the exception.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, father.” He smiled, an old familiar smile. “I think you’re right. I never thought I could feel safe with someone again, but I do. Honestly, I think she’s stronger than me. I like that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kodlak grinned and snatched up the pitcher on the table to pour their mugs over with ale. “Aye, she’s strong in ways you are not. I’m sure there’s much she can teach you, and much you can teach her in return.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you’re right. I want to be able to give her what she’s given me.” He swirled his mug and the foam atop it, a soft smile on his lips. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I love her.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can see that! You’ve not blushed this much since you were a boy.” Kodlak grabbed his mug and held it up to Vilkas, who raised his in kind. “To having something to blush about!” Kodlak grinned, and the two clashed their mugs together before tossing back large swigs. “You have won the affection of an incredible woman. The Dragonborn, no less! Just as I was becoming worried you’d never let your guard down again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t plan to. I tried not to…I couldn’t seem to stay away from her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she, you. For months you’ve been the first person she goes to speak to when she returns to town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vilkas raised a brow. “You’ve noticed that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am your Harbinger. I am well aware of what the members of my guild are up to. The laughter and wry smiles might’ve also given you away.” He chuckled again. “You’ve been drawn to each other since you’ve met, as though the Gods themselves set your meeting in motion...Perhaps they did.” He paused to take a drink. “You deserve this, my boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vilkas leaned back, and held his cup in both hands with a smile. “If you believe that, I know there’s truth in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye.” He nodded. “I would never steer you wrong. Hold on to her. You will ease each other’s burdens.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kodlak’s words had put Vilkas at rest, as they always had, but there was still part of him that had to know where she’d gone. Just in case he felt her again. Just in case something </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did you send her? Why didn’t she let me go with her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kodlak paused, and took another drink, a long one this time. “She seems to have kept confidence about our conversation, even with you. I spoke only to her, because I believe her to be the best person for this job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What job? Why is this such a secret?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kodlak hung his head, and seemed to ponder for a moment. Vilkas stayed silent, not wanting to distract from the decision he was making. When his mind was made up, he lifted his head and breathed a relieved sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something I haven’t said...about Ma’assan,” he began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Screaming and clashing exploded from upstairs. Swords clanged together and arrows slammed into wood in a chaotic symphony that thrust them up from their chairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an instant, Kodlak bolted for the door, grabbing his sword and throwing an extra to Vilkas as they rushed out to meet the noises in the mead hall.</span>
</p><hr/><p>The moons hung high in the cloudless sky near each other, waning beautifully against the stars. The lights and colors of the Aurora danced in the air as if playing in the cool Northern wind<em> . </em>The moons and sky never looked so magical back home on the Isles, although it would think itself a far more magical place. She and Inigo were nearly home now, the real home: Whiterun. She’d return to Kodlak and be one step closer to the cure.</p><p>“Are you going to howl at it?” Inigo broke the long silence.</p><p>“What will you do if I cure myself? All of your best material will be rendered irrelevant.”</p><p>“I doubt that. My range is unrivaled.” </p><p>A ribbon of blue-green flicked across the sky above the approaching treeline and a small flock of birds flew from the canopy, whirling against the backdrop of the twinkling stars before disappearing over the trees.</p><p>“What do you mean <em> if </em>?” Inigo spoke up again. “Do you not want the cure yourself?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Ma’assan said honestly. “I think so.”</p><p>Silence, again. Inigo’s dark chestnut, Artax, galloped up beside Ma’assan’s black gelding. The elf gazed up at the sky and the cat watched the road ahead disappear into darkness, as their horses walked the path. </p><p>“Well, do you like being a werewolf?” Inigo said. Ma’assan took a soft breath.</p><p>“I’d certainly never planned on it. There’s an intensity that comes with the change. My body tingles with power and energy and all of my wildest inhibitions are freed.”</p><p>“That sounds great.”</p><p>“It is.. but it lingers. It makes me shift in my sleep and jump more quickly to anger than I ever have. It...<em> whispers </em> to me. Sometimes it screams. Or it claws and scratches. I’ve control of it, but it never stops fighting for the upper hand…” Inigo said nothing. “And, there’s Hircine, of course,” she said. She stayed focused on the stars, trying not to think about the witches mural, and the prince’s burning gaze.</p><p>“Not interested in spending your afterlife as a hell beast of Oblivion?”</p><p>“Only if I can take you and your bad jokes with me.”</p><p>“<em> Hilarious </em>jokes aside, I think you make a great werewolf,” he said, turning to her. “You are new to it but you seem in control. Even more than the other members of the Circle. You are ferocious in battle and the shine of your fur could rival even mine. But I have always known you to be just as formidable as you are now. You do not need the beast to be a great warrior. If you want the cure, we will find it. If you want to stay a stinking, snarling wolf, I am with you as well,” Inigo said affectionately. Ma’assan turned to him and gave a chuckle.</p><p>“Comforting, and elegantly phrased, as always,” she said, before her tone fell serious again. “Still, even knowing the curse’s consequences, I’m not sure if I’m ready to let go just yet. But, I can’t rest until I see Vilkas and Kodlak cured. They’ll find peace and someday our Harbinger will join his shield siblings in Sovngarde. GAH-” Ma’assan fought back a scream as the obsidian ring activated.</p><p>“Ma’assan!! What is it?!”</p><p>“Vilkas!” she yelled, pulling her horse’s reins and kicking back. Banal’ras took off, bolting through the forest as quickly as he could. She heard Artax and Inigo following behind, but quickly lost the sound amongst the pounding of Banal’s hooves and the thrashing of her heartbeat. Grief, anguish, and shock roared through her body, twisting her gut and creeping up her throat. <em> What’s happening? Why is this happening?! </em>Her heart tore itself apart in her chest and she fought back burning tears of rage and agony. She was desperate to scream to gain relief but gave only a brief yell to spur Banal on.</p><p>“OPEN THE GATES!” Ma’assan shouted out to the guards from down the dirt path as she rode up to the city’s large doors. They prepared to draw their weapons, but upon seeing the flowing silver hair of the Dragonborn, quickly moved to open the gates. The Companion jumped from her horse and ran through the doors as soon as there was space enough to fit. Her feet carried her swiftly through the dark, empty city; heart drumming furiously in her chest, playing a song of fear and anxiety.</p><p>
  <em> Akatosh… Ysgramor… Reymon… please, let him be alright.  </em>
</p><p>As she came to the top of the stone steps leading to the Eldergleam Tree, she saw a small crowd of guards and nosey civilians at the base of the steps to Jorrvaskr; a few of the spectator’s torches offering light to the unusual scene. The onlookers solemnly watched the two Companions at the top of the stairs: Aela with her bow firm in her grip, standing over a dead body, and Vilkas… covered in fresh blood.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*weeps* </p><p>I believe there should be only four chapters left to this particular story but there may be five. We’ll see. They’ll continue to be smutty off and on, of course. If anyone has made it this far, hope you’re enjoying!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. For Kodlak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our pair experience grief together.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Disclaimer! Previous (and future) chapters in this work are subject to tweak a lil as the story progresses. If you read the last chapter a while ago, just refresh yourself on the end cause it changed a bit (:</p><p>Excuse the long absence! I’m still unreasonably focused on this story, don’t worry. Just figuring out the best way to tell it &lt;3</p><p>Going into revenge plot line-ness. Graphic, but not gory, depictions of violence ahead. SFW otherwise.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vilkas frantically searched the front steps of Jorrvaskr. Cold winds assaulted his feverish face, wet with sweat and blood. The jagged edges of his shattered heart split and cut deeper with each panting breath. Blood seeped from his trembling, clenched fists; palms punctured by the sharp claws he fought desperately to suppress. Aela stood quiet and motionless nearby, staring down at the mirror of blood slowly growing beneath the body she’d pulled her arrow from. The body belonged neither to the thief who’d stolen Wuuthrad, nor the bastard he intended to rip apart.</p><p>“WHERE IS HE!”</p><p>“They escaped North, over the wall. Five of them.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you follow them!!” Fire burst behind his eyes, and his voice grew twisted and dark with rage. The huntress whipped her head back at him.</p><p>“<em> Calm yourself, </em> brother...we are not alone.” She kept her voice low, her own green eyes flashing briefly. Curious faces lit by torch light gawked noiselessly from the base of the steps. Nothing like this had ever happened at Jorrvaskr, not in their lifetime. The few city guardsmen in the group remained at the bottom of the steps with the nosey civilians, well aware that problems within Jorrvaskr were handled solely by the Companions. Unfortunately, it also meant they failed to catch or pursue the escaping hunters. <em> Useless cowards. </em>Vilkas swallowed an angry growl and clenched his teeth, wary of giving the spectators a show to truly remember. </p><p>“Vilkas!!”</p><p>His lungs seized, and his throat tightened to a pin’s width. From the darkness, just past the pestiferous handful of onlookers, was the flowing silver hair of the woman he loved. Vilkas called Ma’assan’s name, flying down the stairs and through the quickly parting guards and civilians. He could hardly breathe, but as he embraced her, the air rushed back into him. Her scent wrapped him up in its sweetness and her slender, strong arms pulled him into the warmth of her heaving chest. Her heartbeat pounded against him, the elf squeezing so tightly he nearly lost his breath again. For a moment he was sure he would fall apart there with her, but the ceaseless boiling in his blood kept him focused.</p><p>“We have to go!” He pulled away, grabbing her hand and making for the steps to the gates. “Now!”</p><p>“What’s happened?!” She tugged back and planted her feet. </p><p>“The Silver Hand attacked! We must pursue, now!!”</p><p>“Are you alright?! I felt-”</p><p>“WE’RE WASTING TIME!” he boomed. “They made off with Wuuthrad! We have to get it back!!”</p><p>She yanked her hand away and turned to Jorrvaskr. The sky around it was darker than usual. Silence weighed noticeably upon the place, usually filled with raucous jeering and sparring even late into the night. Aela stood in the same spot at the top step, fixated on the slow drip of thick blood seeping down the stone steps. The spectators whispered amongst themselves. </p><p>“Is everyone alright?” When she turned back her eyes wandered anxiously over his armor. He looked down at himself; hands, arms, and chest covered in Kodlak’s blood. Before he could answer she started for the steps. </p><p>“No!!” He lurched forward, grabbing hold of her hand again. “Please, Ma’assan! Come with me!”</p><p>“Tell me what happened!!”</p><p>“I TOLD YOU!”</p><p>He took a few breaths. His gaze wouldn’t rise to meet hers, so he looked instead at their locked hands.</p><p>“The Silver Hand attacked, Wuuthrad is gone, and.. Kodlak is…” He choked on the last word. Her strong grip fell limp. Silence again. Quickly enough, she yanked away and tried to head to Jorrvaskr. Vilkas darted forward and seized her in his arms. “No! He’s gone, Ma’assan!”</p><p>“How!!” she cried, thrashing and punching. “How could this have happened!” </p><p>“The leader of the Silver Hand took vengeance for the blood you and Aela spilled!” He turned, tossing her back onto her feet towards the steps leaving the city. “<em> And </em>he got away! We must follow!!” </p><p>They watched each other for a moment, panting softly.</p><p>“I want to see him,” Ma’assan said calmly.</p><p>“He’s not in there anymore,” Vilkas matched her tone. The two began to struggle again. She pushed and pulled fiercely against him, proving difficult to contain. He tossed her back a second time and she took a breath, as she’d done before unleashing her Thu’um on him in the woods. “Please, Ma’assan!” He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her in a crushing embrace, pulling her from her feet. “I just can’t!” His voice nearly broke. “I can’t let you see him that way!” </p><p>Finally, she grew still. The hands that had been thrashing against his pauldron laid flat against the back of his neck and she was quiet. </p><p>“The others will stay behind… tend to the wounded and prepare Kodlak.” He let her down to her feet. “You’ll have a chance to say goodbye.. properly. For now, we <em> must </em>go find his killer.” </p><p>She stepped back. The soft lines of her dimly lit face were contorted in anger, confusion, and disbelief. Hot flickers of torch light reflected off her glassy eyes as they wandered over his blood soaked armor. </p><p>“The leader of the Silver Hand,” she started, focusing her attention back on Jorrvaskr before continuing, “he did it? He killed him?”</p><p>“Yes…”</p><p>“How did it happen?” she asked, her voice straining the words out in almost a whisper.</p><p>“Come with me to find him, and I’ll tell you.”</p><p>As the two hurried out of the city, they ran into Inigo: Wild eyed and out of breath, desperate to know what was going on. She was curt with the cat, briefing him vaguely on the Silver Hand’s attack and asking that he join the Circle members at Jorrvaskr to help however he could. He questioned her at first, but she insisted. </p><p>“Please, Inigo. I need you at Kodlak’s side…”</p><p>He still seemed curious, but he merely met her eyes and gave a knowing nod. He informed her that her gelding had returned himself to the stables, and warmly advised she be careful before quickly departing on his mission. Vilkas was grateful she had someone who understood her so well and cared so much. He was also eager for the day when he too would decipher Ma’assan’s innerworkings with just a look, without feeling an uncontrollable need to ask more questions.</p><p>After exiting the city gates, they rushed towards the stables to Banal’ras. Ma’assan leaped onto the large steed, Vilkas following and gripping the saddle’s horn as the horse bolted out onto the road.</p><p>The chilling winds blew in Vilkas’ favor, the scent wasn’t strong but it was easy to catch. Five of them heading North; bloody and sweating…and <em> also </em> on horses. He tightened his hands on the leather horn. Banal’ras was fast, but the Hand had a fair head start. He’d hoped to capture them on foot. Instead, it would be a race through the woods. The thought of even one of them escaping welled a sinister growl in his chest. He led Ma’assan onto the path and she spurred the gelding on, the three flying over cobblestone towards the forest. </p><p>“How did he do it, Vilkas? How did it happen?”</p><p>Vilkas watched the road from over her shoulder. He was reluctant to recount the event, but he’d made her a deal. As a Companion of the Inner Circle, she needed to know. As a friend and confidant of Kodlak’s, she deserved to. For some reason, it seemed they’d shared a special bond. From the first day she arrived, Kodlak welcomed her warmly and pushed for her acceptance. He kept council with her, and had even begun to send her on confidential assignments. Vilkas wouldn’t be the only one to miss him.</p><p>“I was with Kodlak in his quarters when we heard the fight start upstairs…”</p><hr/><p>“Find him!!”</p><p>A man’s voice screamed above the shouting in the mead hall of Jorrvaskr. Vilkas and Kodlak rushed up the steps leading to the hall, turning the corner to see chaos roaring: Silver clanging against steel, iron and wooden shields colliding, shrieks of rage and pain. The wide, fire lit room became a claustrophobic nightmare of sharp cuts and near misses. Without hesitation the Harbinger unsheathed his sword and slashed ahead, cutting down a swordsman pinning a fellow Companion onto a table. Vilkas joined him in the fight, the pair quickly slashing down another nearby warrior before their attention was drawn to the front entrance.</p><p>“There!” the man’s voice yelled. “There is the dog who ordered the deaths of our brothers and sisters! The Harbinger is mine!!” The voice belonged to a tall, armored man with wild blonde hair. Vilkas had seen him and his furious green eyes during previous encounters with the Silver Hand. Though he’d never announced himself as such, it was clear he was their leader, and now he intended to lead them to vengeance. </p><p>“It was me!” Aela shouted. “I’m responsible for the deaths of those cowards! The Harbinger knew nothing of my actions!” The blonde turned to the huntress, clenching his jaw and forcing a small, uncomfortable smile.</p><p>“And you’ll get to watch him die for your mistakes.” </p><p>As he ran to Kodlak, Hand members around the room continued to rage against the swords of the Companions - including Vilkas. A large, bellowing warrior stomped towards him, swinging a massive hammer at his head. Vilkas lurched back, clutching the hilt of his sword and steadying his balance. The bulging warrior was heavily armored, and surprisingly deft on his feet. He dove back from another swing, trying to stay close to Kodlak. He watched the hammer closely, jerking his head to the side as it barrelled closer and throwing his weight into a counter attack that the titan nimbly evaded. Usually, he would be delighted by such an intriguing enemy, but he had no patience for the distraction while the Harbinger stood alone. </p><p>The wild haired werewolf hunter had quickly closed the distance and Kodlak shuffled back into a low stance to take his blow. The impact of the first smashing hit nearly sent him to his knees; it had been well over a year since the Harbinger had picked up his sword to fight. He’d grown weary in his old age and lost the speed he once had. Each potentially lethal swing of that large silver sword made Vilkas’ stomach drop. His blood began to boil, and his beast began to beg for release. </p><p><em> You could kill them. You could rip them apart. You could taste the sweetness of their blood. You could </em> <b> <em>kill them</em> </b> <em> .  </em></p><p>Vilkas remembered his promise to Kodlak and his brother, swallowing the lump in his throat and tossing himself back from another swing. Just feet away, Kodlak’s sword clanged against the leader’s. </p><p>Counter. Parry. Slash! Slash! Slash! </p><p>Vilkas tried to break away from the titan to run to Kodlak’s aid, but stepped before his falling hammer. Its heavy head yanked back, sweeping him off his feet to slam into the hardwood. The weapon raised high above, swinging down and crashing into the floor as Vilkas darted away. He jumped back up, staying low and light. Had he maintained focus, he would have feinted a slash before lunging at the giant hunter. </p><p>But, Kodlak cried out. He struggled against the blonde, shoving his sword back and heaving in exhaustion. The vengeful leader roared and plunged his blade towards the Harbinger’s breastplate. Vilkas nearly shouted as well, but everything went black before he could. </p><p>“Vilkas!”</p><p>Only a moment passed before his vision began to return and he raised his head from the floor. Rage electrified his bones. His beast grew nearly uncontrollable, and he began to lose the will to fight it. As he rose, a low growl rumbled from his chest and his skin began to stretch over shifting muscle. A pair of large, gloved hands seized his shoulders and pulled him up to his feet, shaking him forcefully. </p><p>“Vilkas! Hold yourself together!” Kodlak came into focus before him, his wrinkled face wet with sweat and blood splatter. He was fine. He was strong. Vilkas nodded, steadying himself on the Harbinger’s arms and burying the change. </p><p>A sharp gasp sounded from Kodlak and his grip on Vilkas’ shoulders grew painfully tight. The blade that had missed its target before pierced its mark abruptly. </p><p>“GET BACK!” the man shouted, hateful green eyes glaring from over Kodlak’s shoulder. “Everyone stop!”</p><p>The smell of his mentor’s blood assaulted his senses, making his tongue and throat swell. The grey eyes he’d always known were wider than he’d ever seen them, and the hard lines of his brow twitched in shock. Fighting ceased around them, and the moment became noiseless. The hot, humid air was stale with body odor and smoke, helping to further twist Vilkas’ clenching stomach. The thick leather handle of the titan’s hammer fell over his face before yanking him back by his neck, dragging him over the hardwood away from Kodlak and their leader. The old man let out a howl, collapsing to his knees as the silver blade jutting from his breastplate twisted to the delight of the man wielding it. </p><p>Vilkas wailed and grappled the handle, but it hardly budged in the grip of the prodigiously powerful titan. <b> <em>You could kill them! You could kill them! Change now! Before it’s too late! </em> </b> He thrashed and snarled against the leather; eyes lighting with hellfire, bones <em> crunching </em> and <em> cracking </em>, nails stretching into claws. </p><p>“Vilkas!” Kodlak shouted. “Don’t let them change you!”</p><p>“And why not!” cried the leader of the Silver Hand before wrapping a dagger around Kodlak’s neck. “Come now <em> Vilkas </em>, I bet your master ‘ere could ‘ave a fightin’ chance if you change. Show ‘em what you are: A rabid dog, a beast of Oblivion that could rip me right to pieces.” The dagger’s edge pressed tighter to Kodlak’s skin and the room shifted with movement. The blonde kept his eyes carefully trained on them all, knuckles growing white over the blade’s handle. Kodlak drafted short, pained breaths, and gave a nod. </p><p>“You know who you are, son.”</p><p>Vilkas roared and choked against the handle constricting his morphing throat. His skin broiled over his bones and the drumming of his own heartbeat nearly deafened him.  He struggled to stay present as he fought agonizing convulsions, and scrambled to think of an anchor to his humanity. </p><p>
  <em> Deep breaths… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Focus… </em>
</p><p>Ma’assan’s voice echoed in his mind. Vilkas hissed thick air through clenched teeth as his body began to break itself back into place. </p><p>
  <em> I know my honor! I am no rabid dog! Not anymore! I will keep my word! I will atone! I can still save him! </em>
</p><p>“Got it!” a woman shouted from somewhere behind. With that, the blonde gave a piercing whistle, and the shuffle of boots pounding towards the front doors rumbled the hardwood beneath his knees. Crashes and clangs rang out as the two fire basins warming the entrance crashed to the floor, setting it and the nearby pillars ablaze. The wild fury in the leader’s eyes turned to malignant pleasure, flickering with the reflection of the growing fire. </p><p>“Rot in Oblivion, dogs!” </p><p>Vilkas knew that for the rest of his life, he would play this moment over and over again. He would wonder at the outcomes had he transformed, kept more focused on his opponent, escaped the titan, grabbed the knife, intercepted the leader, taken the blow for Kodlak, anything. Everything. Instead, he did nothing but choke against the handle barring him back. </p><p>The blade sliced into Kodlak’s pale neck with ease, the wielder whipping his hand back with a flourish, painting the dirty floor with a spray of bright red blood. A chilling scream burst Vilkas’ eardrums in its agony, and only when the horrible noise ceased did he realize his sore throat had made it. The blonde smashed a boot into the Harbinger’s shoulder blades and yanked his sword free before rushing for the doors. Finally, the titan released Vilkas, bolting to cover the leader as he made his escape. </p><p>“<em> AELA!! </em>” Vilkas roared, hoping the huntress would make chase with her bow. He struggled to find his breath again as he scrambled to Kodlak, face down in a quickly growing pool of blood. He grabbed the Harbinger, rolling him over and clutching his slashed neck in a tight grip to stop the bleeding. “It’s alright! You’ll be alright!” </p><p>Aela leaped over the flames by the door and burst outside, the other Companions quickly began to extinguish the fire, and his brother rushed to his side.</p><p>“Farkas! We need a healer, now!” </p><p>“..Vilkas..”</p><p>“Help me, brother!!” His hands tightened around Kodlak’s bloody neck. There was no pulse. He laid still, staring up at the ceiling. Vilkas didn’t move either. He watched, waiting for him to move. “...Kodlak?”</p><hr/><p>There was silence for a long time. </p><p> </p><p>Banal’ras’ hooves beat loudly against the dirt as he raced along the dark road. Near the end of his retelling, she’d begun to tremble. She hadn’t stopped. He didn’t know if it was sadness, anger, both. Only the side of her face was visible, and from it all he could see was focus: Glassy eyes ahead, brow pressed firmly down, jaw clenched. </p><p>She pulled hard on the reins and kicked back. Banal’ras’ thunderous neigh echoed through the woodland as he halted, changing course and rushing onto a nearby mountain path. </p><p>“Where are you going? The scent leads North!”</p><p>“I know where they’re going, and I know a faster way to get there.” </p><p>“How?!”</p><p>“Aela kept track of the Silver Hand’s camps long before I joined your ranks. She used the information to plan safe hunts for the Circle and herself. After Skjor’s murder, we sought to bring the battle to them rather than keep waiting for them to claim our heads. I neutralized the camps in the Rift, so there should be only one left. Driftshade Refuge, Southeast of Dawnstar.”</p><p>“They were quick to retreat, and only five escaped. They didn’t attack Jorrvaskr with more force because they don’t have it.”</p><p>“It’s why they attacked in the first place! We made the mistake of provoking them instead of <em> exterminating </em>them.”</p><p>“We should still pursue their leader! We can’t be sure how many will be waiting at their chief camp. The rest of the Silver Hand will be there!”</p><p>“<em> Exactly. </em> It’s <em> not </em> enough to kill only those that escaped Jorrvaskr. You and I will kill them <em> all. </em> There will be no retaliation because there will be no Silver Hand. Their leader will return to find his home burning to the ground and he will regret raising his weapons against Jorrvaskr!”</p><p>Vilkas clenched his jaw as the scent faded completely. He wanted to watch that ingrate die, <em> now. </em>But, patience could reward him with something better: the fiery deaths of every member of the Silver Hand before the eyes of their leader. He would die last, and he would know his mistake.</p><p>Banal’ras rushed them halfway up the trail before Ma’assan slowed him and turned into the brush. They crunched over a small, overgrown path winding at the base of towering trees; the thick canopy blocking almost all light from entering the forest. Not far along was a large jagged cliff overhang, dangling above a few hundred foot drop. Banal’ras stopped there and Ma’assan swept a leg over his head to jump down.</p><p>“Why’ve we stopped?” Vilkas dropped down behind her. She walked halfway out to the pointed edge of the rock. The craggy stone there was stained with old, blackened blood and a whispering hum vibrated the earth around it. Vilkas intended to repeat his question, but a large, nauseating lump rose in his throat. He took a breath and tried to swallow it down.</p><p>“Sometimes, if powerful enough, large bursts of violent magic can create tears in the veil between realms. It leaves a scar, a weak spot buzzing with energy.” She motioned to the empty space at the edge of the cliff. “Just there is one such scar. Can you feel it?” </p><p>“I <em> feel </em> sick,” he groaned. </p><p>“That’s natural. Your magic reaches for the energy. Without training, I’d imagine it feels as though your stomach is trying to climb up your throat.” She raised a hand, which glowed with golden twinkling light, and his nausea dissipated into warmth. He allowed a sigh of relief. </p><p>“Thank you,” he cleared his throat. “But, I still don’t know why we’re here.”</p><p>“I can pull the scar open and siphon power from the weak spot; enough to sustain a portal to another magically sensitive location. This will take us just South of Dawnstar.”</p><p>“A portal?” After his last botched magical experience trying to activate the ring, he was nervous at the prospect of a portal at the edge of a fatal drop. “Is this safe?”</p><p>“Travelling this way is not without discomfort, but it’s safe. I’ve used this particular route multiple times before.” She was curt and clinical, as she had been with Inigo. Vilkas looked into her eyes, but saw no answers in them. </p><p>“I tried to activate the ring today. It felt as though I were being ripped in two, I couldn’t catch my breath. This is just a ring… I’m not sure how well I can manage a portal.”</p><p>“All you’ll have to do is walk through it. I’ll keep the path safe for you.” Vilkas huffed and glared at the invisible scar hanging above the cliff’s edge. “They’re likely expecting to be pursued, but they will never expect we’ll beat them there. Trust me, and we will have vengeance for Kodlak.” Her usually kempt silver hair blew messily about her grave features. Determined violet eyes still sparkled like polished glass, but she hadn’t cried. He couldn’t be sure if he could feel her pain through the ring because his own was so significant. He wanted to ignore it all and hold her, just for a moment. Everything could stop and they could fall apart together in the quiet. The shine of her eyes grew brighter as they gazed at each other, and her brow began to soften and dip. He took a step closer, but her face hardened again. “We mustn’t waste time.”</p><p>“For Kodlak,” he nodded.</p><p>Ma’assan turned towards the overhang, raising her arms out with palms to the sky. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, staying still and silent. Slowly, Vilkas began to feel the energy pulsate; the unnerving sensation tugging hard in his throat and chest now. A tall crack of white light appeared above the bloody stone, the wind picking up force and whipping around them. The mage took another deep breath and opened her eyes, the orbs glowing hot with white light that lit her face up against the darkness.</p><p>“<em> Revas.” </em>Her soft voice carried on the wind, whirling around him before echoing into the tree canopy.</p><p>The blazing scar was forced open, ripping into a swirling ring of light encircling a veil of beautiful iridescent blue energy; shifting gently like the waters of a bay. He moved closer and the tugging became waves of energy, sending an electric feeling through him akin to the full body euphoria of giving yourself over to transformation. He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the light, marveling at the gateway and the magical force it sent over his body. The energy within him feasted and thrived on the power wildly unleashed. If he’d ever had the chance to feel something like this before, he might’ve known there was magic within him. </p><p>“Take a deep breath, hold it, and walk briskly through. It should take only a moment,” she instructed. “Closing your eyes will help.”</p><p>He walked slowly to the edge of the rock, just before the waving veil; shadows and shapes shifting beneath its shimmering surface. </p><p>“I would never let anything happen to you,” she said softly. </p><p>“I trust you.” With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and rushed off the cliff, dropping through empty space. </p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think this might end up being longer than I intended.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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